


Through A Glass Darkly

by indiefic



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Ant-Man (2015), Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cap!Peggy, F/M, Gen, Parallel Universes, Peggy Carter and Skinny Steve totally had a thing, Peggy Carter is Captain America, Peggy!Cap, Steggy baby, dimension hopping Steggy, lots of woowoo about the infinity stones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:38:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stephen Strange starts poking the Infinity Gems, trying to locate the missing fifth gem, Steve Rogers finds out the hard way that it's possible to do more than just glimpse the realms Wanda showed him during the battle with Ultron.  He wakes up in a world where everyone knows Captain America, but no one knows Steve Rogers.  Well, almost no one.</p><p>(I borrowed Claire Temple from Daredevil because <i>hello</i> Rosario Dawson, duh)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rampant speculation for Dr. Strange and the Infinity Gems (Stones? has Marvel decided what they're calling them in the MCU?).

“I already told you,” Steve said, trying his damnedest to keep a rein on his temper, “my name is Steve Rogers.  I’m part of the Avengers.”

 

Tony looked at him, disdain on his features.  He turned to Hill.  “Any luck digging up those records yet?”

 

“Yeah,” she said dryly, “seventy year old records that are stored in a defunct salt mine in Hutchinson, Kansas.  I’ll have ‘em in twenty minutes.”  

 

“When’s Cap back?” Tony asked.

 

“Tomorrow,” Hill replied.  “The funeral was this morning.”  She turned on her heel, walking down the concrete hallway.

 

Tony pursed his lips together, frowning and followed Hill.  Steve sighed, slumping back against the wall of the cell.  It was no use trying to escape.  There was a cell like this in the Avengers facility in upstate New York.  It could contain Banner on a bad day.  There was no way Steve was getting out.  Plus, he didn’t think an escape would endear him to his de facto captors, and as much as he was frustrated with them, he needed their help.

 

Steve still had no idea where he was.  He’d run out of any kind of logical explanation and was quickly working his way through illogical ones.  It didn’t help that he didn’t entirely remember how he got here.  He remembered Dr. Strange talking about the Infinity Gems.  Apparently there were five of them.  Two were on Asgard, one was the power fueling Vision, and Strange had heard rumors that a fourth was with someone called the Nova Empire.  The story was that bringing all five of the gems together would be bad for the universe.

 

Strange, despite Thor’s warnings, had experimented with the Tesseract and the other, called the Aether.  He was trying to use them to locate the fifth gem and something had gone terribly wrong.

 

It had been a blur. Steve wasn’t clear on whether the universe itself had actually been the blur, or merely his perception.  He’d been badly injured.  He’d started to come to, during a surgery, and had overheard enough to know that things weren’t right.

 

_“Hold him,” one had yelled._

 

_“Easier said than done,” another answered.  “He’s a lot like Cap.”_

 

There had been more shouting about medications and restraints and then everything went black.  He’d woken up, what he could only assume was days later, here, in this cell with the worst headache of his life and a ten inch scar down his left side.

 

The scar was quickly improving and the headache was gone.  Though it had been replaced by unrelenting boredom and confusion.  

 

At least once a day, Tony Stark came to visit.  He seemed very much like the Tony Stark who Steve knew, in that he fit the billionaire, unstable genius model quite well.  He was different, however, in the fact that this Tony Stark didn’t seem to know anyone by the name of Steve Rogers.

 

There was a ‘Cap’ somewhere, who apparently wasn’t Steve.  Maria Hill was here and seemed to have the same prickly relationship with Tony as the Maria who Steve knew.  There was also a Natasha Romanoff.  He’d heard Hill mention her to Stark.

 

A year ago, Steve would have been as lost as he’d been when he woke up in Fury’s fake recovery room. But today ... He remembered the visions Wanda had used to haunt him, a glimpse into a life that hadn’t existed, a parallel realm.  Had he actually made it into one of those realms?  

 

Right now, it was the best theory he had.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later, Tony appeared again, holding a set of fragile, age-yellowed records.  He looked from the paper to Steve and back.  “There was a Steve Rogers who was part of the SSR in the forties,” Tony said.

 

Steve nodded.

 

Tony lowered the papers, tapping them against his leg as he studied Steve.  “They gave him a desk job.  He died in the fifties.”  Tony looked at the records again.  “Heart failure related to influenza.  Also, you don’t exactly fit the physical description.”

 

Steve hung his head.  “I was part of Project Rebirth,” he said slowly, knowing it would make no difference to Tony.

 

Tony gave him a smug, condescending frown.  “Records say Rogers washed out of Project Rebirth.”

 

“He didn’t wash out.”

 

Steve was immediately on his feet.  He would know that voice anywhere.  He watched, rooted in place, as Peggy Carter walked into his line of sight, standing next to Tony.  She was the Peggy he remembered from the war, features youthful, hair dark.  She looked sad, angry maybe.  Her hair was shorter, straighter, and she was dressed in modern clothing.  In heels, she was taller than Tony.  

 

Steve had never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

 

“Cap,” Tony said to her.  “I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow.”

 

Peggy took the records from him and studied them, and then Steve.  She frowned.  “Steve Rogers didn’t wash out of Project Rebirth.  He was Dr. Erskine’s first choice for the program.  There were ... complications,” she said quietly.  “They had to go with a backup plan.”

 

Steve crossed the cell, standing only a couple of feet from Tony and Peggy, though they were separated by hulk-proof bars.  “You,” he said, looking at Peggy.

 

Her expression was closed off.  She handed the records back to Tony.  “This isn’t Steve Rogers.”  She started to walk away.

 

“I am Steve Rogers,” he said firmly.  “How much do you know about the Tesseract, Peggy?  Schmidt’s cosmic cube.  The energy source used to power Hydra weapons?”

 

She stopped and turned back, looking at him.  

 

“Howard found it, didn’t he?  After the war.  Did Thor take it back to Odin’s vault?” Steve asked.

 

Tony rounded on Peggy in frustration.  “Who the hell is this guy?” he demanded.

 

She walked closer, placing her hands on the bars as she studied him.  Steve held her gaze, willing her to know him.  He could almost feel how much she wanted to write him off, but there was ... _something_.  She frowned.  “I’m not sure,” she said.

 

She stepped back and turned to Tony.  “Erskine kept immaculate records, samples of all of the Project Rebirth candidates.  There are still some vials on ice.  Call Lee, see if he can pull Rogers’ samples.  Compare them to,” she nodded to Steve, “ _him_.  Find out if the serum could account for the physical differences.”

 

Tony frowned.  “Have you looked at Rogers’ physical records?” he demanded.  “The serum wasn’t magic, Peg.  The physical changes you’re considering aren’t possible, serum or no serum.  You know better than most what it does.”

 

Peggy looked at Tony, expression flat.  “The physical changes are exactly what Erskine theorized could be possible.  It was one of the many reasons he liked Rogers as the candidate.”

 

Tony shook his head.  “You really think this guy could be Rogers?  He died like sixty years ago.”

 

“And I died seventy years ago,” Peggy said dismissively, turning and heading back down the hall.  “Find the samples and run them.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nobody bothered to inform Steve that the samples had been run, or that they proved he was telling the truth.  But when a woman named Claire unlocked the cell and asked Steve to follow her, he assumed that was what happened.

 

Walking down the hallway Steve knew this facility was a copy of the Avengers facility in upstate New York.  He followed Claire to a small apartment, temporary housing, away from the team quarters.  Still, it was better than the cell.

 

"Where's Peggy?" Steve asked.

 

Claire turned and looked at him, studying him. He didn't know who she was or how she fit in the team.  She seemed wary, world weary, but not spy material and definitely not a soldier. She reminded him of nurses who took care of the lost causes on the battlefield.  "Cap?" she asked.  She shrugged.  "Away."

 

"When will she be back?" he pressed.

 

Claire sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not at liberty to answer that."

 

"You're trying to protect her," he said, frowning.  "From me.  Why?"

 

Claire pursed her lips together. "She had to bury an old friend this week. I'm not sure this bizarro world reunion with some guy who's been dead for sixty years is what she needs right now."

 

Steve studied Claire.  She was suspicious of him and protective of Peggy, but not unkind. "She's the one who told Tony to let me out," he said.

 

Claire nodded. "She did."

 

Steve sighed and looked at the door to his temporary accommodations.  "So am I a prisoner?"

 

"No," Claire said firmly, "though we would like it if you stayed close."

 

"Sure," Steve said tightly.  "No problem."  Where the hell would he go?

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Steve had no idea where to begin trying to tackle the enormity of the changes between his own world and this one.  Hell, he didn’t even know what was going on with his own world half the time.  So he borrowed a laptop and used it to research the Avengers.  

 

The overall team information was the same as the team he knew, with the exception, of course, that Captain America wasn’t Steve Rogers.  Captain America was Peggy Carter.  Like him, she had gone missing during the war, after stopping the Red Skull.  And like him, she had been found nearly seventy years later and pulled into the Avengers to help thwart Loki’s attempted enslavement of Earth.

 

Falcon was not part of the team, which made sense, since Steve was the one who had pulled Sam in.  And Claire, while not part of the team propper, was an important enough support member that even she warranted the occasional press write up.  Her name was Claire Temple and she was a nurse from New York who seemed to have an affinity for patching up wounded super heroes.

 

As for Steve Rogers, there was nothing.  Not that Steve was shocked.  Who was going to write about an asthmatic desk jockey who died sixty years ago?

 

* * *

 

Over several days, Steve learned through trial and error that he was confined to the public areas of the facility.  He couldn’t get past any of the coded doors.  Out of boredom, he went outside for a run.  He hadn’t gotten far before he heard someone coming up behind him.  He glanced over his shoulder and saw Peggy.  She was at least as fast as him, if not faster, and she didn’t appear to be out for a leisurely jog.  

 

Steve picked up the pace and Peggy fell into stride next to him.  Neither one of them spoke as they ran for miles over a route Steve knew well.  Peggy apparently did too.  The trail eventually looped back around and Steve knew they were only a couple of miles from the facility.  Peggy did too and she picked up the pace.  Steve matched her.  

 

As they mounted the final hill before they reached the facility, Peggy looked over at him in blatant challenge and took off.  Steve went after her, running as fast as he could.   _Damn_ , she was fast.  He almost had her by the time they reached the facility grounds, but not quite.  Both of them slowed to a walk, breathing hard.

 

“Not bad for an old man,” Peggy said.

 

“You know,” Steve said, “I’m pretty sure I’m not even a year older than you.”

 

Peggy looked over at him, frowning.

 

“So,” Steve said, deciding there was no time like the present to get to the heart of the issue, “you told Stark there were complications that prevented Steve Rogers from being chosen for Project Rebirth.”

 

She looked away, but nodded.

 

“What were they?” he pressed.

 

She looked over at him, lips pursed together.  “The night before the procedure, Gilmore Hodge nearly beat him to death,” she said tightly.  “We didn’t think he was going to make it.”

 

Steve nodded.  Damn.  He cleared his throat.  “So Rogers was Erskine’s favorite and Hodge was Phillips’.”

 

“Indeed,” Peggy said.  “The timeline was not changeable and with the two top candidates off the list, they scrambled.”

 

“And found you,” Steve said.

 

She smiled wryly.  “I was supposed to be the first of many,” she said.  “A guinea pig.  I’m fairly certain they thought there was a good chance it would just kill me, which, while regrettable, would have been an acceptable loss.”  She looked over at him.  “None of them considered that I might be their _only_ success.”

 

Steve nodded.  “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

 

Peggy looked over at him.  “Yes, well, at least you’re an American,” she said.  “And a man.  They had no idea what to do with me.  I spent months at Alamogordo.  And then when they finally trotted me out, it was the most absurd level of theater.”

 

Steve frowned, knowing exactly what she meant.

 

“Can we take a moment to marvel at the absurdity of me being Captain America?”   She shook her head in irritation.  “They wouldn’t let me speak.  And the outfits were beyond ridiculous.  I could barely fight off Howard in those shoes, never mind the Nazis.”

 

“So what changed?” Steve asked. “I saw the write ups.  You were a soldier, a hero.”

 

Peggy walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, studying him.  “Steve,” she said.  “He found me, convinced me that I was meant for more.  That I still had a duty and a purpose.  That I shouldn’t squander my gifts.”

 

The rest of it, Steve had read  on the internet.  “You liberated the prisoners from Azzano,” he said.

 

She nodded, looking away.  There had been pictures of her, with Bucky, though Steve was fairly certain the tuft of hair in the lower left hand corner of the picture had actually been his double, just cropped out of the picture.  There were a lot of pictures of Peggy and Bucky, throughout the war.  It was clear the government publicity machine played up their connection, but it looked to Steve like they had been legitimately close.

 

“Have you been talking to Wanda?” Peggy asked, looking up at him.

 

He shook his head.  “Google.”

 

She snorted.  “Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you read,” she said dryly.  She stood again.  “Wanda thinks you’re from some sort of parallel dimension,” she said.  

 

Steve nodded.  “I figured as much,” he said.  At Peggy’s look, he continued, “Wanda did a ... number, on me the first time we met,” he said.  “Showed me another world, different from my own, a life I never lived.  It was the only explanation I could come up with for this.”

 

“Stark and Banner aren’t exactly on board with the theory,” Peggy continued.

 

Steve shrugged.  “Tony doesn’t know everything.”

 

Peggy laughed again.  “No,” she said, “he doesn’t.”

 

They stood there in silence for a long moment before Peggy finally nodded at him.  “Go hit the showers,” she said.  “I’ll pick you up in half an hour and show you what passes for a commissary around here.”

 

* * *

 

Steve and Peggy sat at a table, together, eating.  Like the facility Steve knew, this wasn’t a commissary so much as a restaurant.  Nothing but the best for Tony.  The facility had a large support staff and the room was busy with people coming and going.

 

Both Steve and Peggy looked up as Claire joined them at the table.  “What are you two doing?” she asked pointedly.

 

“Comparing notes,” Peggy said.  “Trying to determine similarities and divergences between our timelines.”

 

“Oh, that must be fun,” Claire said dryly, “especially since it sounds like the two of you both spent seventy years unconscious.  I’m sure you’re both fonts of information.”

 

“She has a point,” Steve said.

 

Peggy sighed.  “She usually does.”

 

The three of them spent dinner talking.  They discussed the war a lot, but not exclusively, so as to include Claire in the conversation.  It was clear to Steve that Peggy and Claire were close.  Peggy had apparently recruited Claire into the Avengers initiative after the Battle of New York and now Claire oversaw the facility’s medical team.

 

After dinner, Peggy and Claire walked Steve back to his quarters.  

 

“Run tomorrow?” Peggy asked as Steve unlocked his door.

 

“Yeah,” he said.  “Sure.  Rematch.”

 

She smiled darkly.  “See you at five.”

 

* * *

 

“You _cheat_ ,” Steve said, fighting for breath.

 

Peggy looked at him.  “How could I possibly cheat at running?” she demanded incredulously.  “Oh, the fuss.  You’re just a sore loser.”

 

“I’m not,” he assured her.  “I have a lifetime of losing under my belt.  I’m fantastic at losing.”

 

She shook her head and laughed at him.  Steve realized his face hurt from smiling.  He wondered at it all, watching her.  She was unbelievable.  She was, like his Peggy, the most attractive woman he’d ever seen.  Standing there in workout gear, she was showing far more skin than Steve had ever dared to imagine he would see.  He couldn’t help but notice the way her sweat soaked tanktop molded to her curves.  Her long, toned legs were just ...   He looked away.

 

She cleared her throat.  “I know this isn’t your fight,” she said.  “But until we find a way to get you back where you belong ...”

 

He looked at her.  

 

“Are you interested in helping out?” she asked pointedly.  “Or do you just intend to be a freeloader?”

 

He frowned at her.

 

“Last night I went through a bunch of Howard’s old prototypes that Tony has in storage here,” she said.  “I think I found that shield you were talking about.”  She nodded toward the building.  “Come on.”

 

Steve followed her through several sets of coded doors and into one of Tony’s labs.  There was the shield, unpainted, lying on the worktop.  Steve touched it gently.  “This is it,” he said.  He flipped it over, the handholds on the back were almost completely degraded by time.  Clearly, Howard hadn’t done anything with it.

 

“It’ll need upgrades,” Peggy said.  “Ilya has time this afternoon to go over designs with you.  He also has some of the old SHIELD Strike Team gear.  He thought he could probably modify some of it to work for you until they can design something specifically for your, um ...”  She motioned with her hand in his general direction.  “... _proportions_.”

 

Steve had no idea what to make of that comment, so he ignored it.  “Is Stark going to be okay with this?” he asked.

 

Peggy shrugged.  “I didn’t give him a choice,” she said shortly.  “He didn’t ask me before he gave Rhodey one of his Iron Man suits.  We’re even.”

 

Steve didn’t think that sounded particularly auspicious, but in a fight between Peggy and Tony, Steve would put all his money on Peggy, even without the serum.

 

END CHAPTER


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want some insight into my "process", I thought, 'oh, hey, they should totally have some pizza together' 
> 
> And then, um, this happened.
> 
> This is why we can't have nice things. You've been warned.

Steve parted company with Peggy and made his way back to his quarters, showering and grabbing a quick breakfast.  He was about to go in search of Ilya when there was a knock on his door.  He opened it to find Maria Hill standing there, looking nonplussed.

 

He followed her to the administrative offices on the upper level of the main facility building and spent several hours filling out various bits of paperwork, which he was certain was nothing but a giant waste of time since he didn’t actually belong in this world.  However, he suspected it was just Tony being petty, so he bit his tongue and muddled through.  

 

Tony made it clear, when they met, that he didn’t trust Steve.  Steve didn’t want to do anything that was going to put Tony and Peggy more at odds than they already were because of him.  Steve didn’t get the impression that there was as much natural friction between Peggy and Tony as there was between him and the Tony from his world.  Peggy had always handled Howard quite adeptly.  Steve assumed it was similar with Tony.  Without being like them, Peggy understood the Starks in a way that Steve never could.

 

After he finished with the paperwork and submitted to a variety of blood samples and various biometric scans, Hill left Steve sitting in a chair for almost an hour.  She finally returned, regarding him warily, but handed him a phone.

 

“Biometric scans will get you into almost all of the team areas,” she said tightly.  “You have the phone.  We’re working on building you a cover story with accompanying paper trail.”  She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Welcome to the Avengers.”

 

Steve nodded and rose to his feet.  “Thank you,” he said earnestly.

 

Hill’s frown wavered and Steve thought maybe she was starting to like him in spite of her better judgment.

 

* * *

 

With Hill’s help, Steve found Ilya, who was new to Steve.  Ilya had no double that Steve knew of from his own world.  Ilya was bright and eager, if a bit obsessive.  He asked a lot of questions and took copious notes.  He looked like he was twelve, though Steve supposed he was the last person who should be judging people based solely on their age.

 

As Peggy had said, Ilya had some of the old SHIELD Strike Team gear.  They managed to cobble together something that would work.  It wasn’t ideal.  Steve knew from experience that in the middle of a fight, the material wasn’t going to hold up the way he needed it to.  Ilya agreed and promised to incorporate some of the design elements from Peggy’s gear into the next iteration.  It would apparently take some time to fabricate.

 

They spent a lot of time working on the shield design.  Steve explained the catch and release mechanism Tony had designed for his shield, back in his own world.  Ilya frowned and told Steve that was a bit out of his depth and he would have to talk to Tony about it.

 

Overall, the afternoon was long, but productive.  As they worked in the lab, Steve caught glimpses of Barton, Natasha, Wanda and Rhodey.  No sign of Tony, Banner or Peggy.  Or Thor, though Steve really hadn’t expected to see him.  

 

While Steve didn’t look forward to having to acclimate to a new world again, he knew it wouldn’t be as difficult this time as it had been the last time.  It was amazing what a difference a familiar face could make.  Especially when it was Peggy’s.

 

* * *

 

Steve picked up his phone.  “Hello?”

 

“Do you eat pizza?” Peggy asked.

 

“I eat ... pretty much anything that isn’t nailed down,” Steve admitted.  It was true.  With his metabolism, he often felt like all he did was eat.

 

“I’m coming over with dinner,” Peggy said.  “Put some pants on.”

 

“I already have - “ Steve heard the click.  “Pants on,” he finished, sighing.  But he couldn’t help but smile.  

 

She wasn’t his Peggy and he knew that.  But she was Peggy.  And despite being from parallel universes, they had more in common with each other than they had with anyone else in their respective worlds.  They both knew what it meant to be people out of time, alone and adrift in a world they often didn’t understand.  Peggy, admittedly, seemed better at that last part than him.  But he remembered, the first time he saw her, the anger and confusion and sadness.  He knew what it was like to feel all of that, to feel so completely alone, even in a crowd of people who were supposed to be your allies.

 

Steve looked around his small apartment.  There wasn’t much to it, a small combined kitchen and living room, with a couch and a TV.  There was a bedroom and bathroom and that was it, a couple hundred square feet.  He took a glass out of the sink and put it in the small dishwasher.  There really wasn’t much more he could do to make the place presentable.  He glanced down at himself.  Despite Peggy’s admonitions, he was dressed, though not for company.  He was barefoot, wearing sweats and a t-shirt.  He considered going and changing, though none of the other clothes they’d found for him to wear were much better.  He didn’t get the feeling that anybody was particularly worried about how fashionable he was.

 

He was still standing there when there was a kick to his door.  He opened it to find Peggy on the other side, pizza box perched on one hand, bottle of Asgardian liquor clasped in the other.  Like him, she was dressed very casually in a t-shirt and shorts.  Feeling marginally better, he stood aside so she could enter.

 

“I brought libations,” she said, holding up the bottle.

 

“I ... see,” he said warily.  “I’m familiar with it.  Not meant for mortals.”

 

She set the pizza box on the counter and looked at him, smiling wryly.  “Don’t be a wanker,” she said.  “We’re going to have a drink.”

 

He didn’t argue as she took two cups out of the cabinet and poured a small amount of liquor in both.  She handed one to him and then crossed the room to the TV, easily using the remote to navigate to a copy of His Girl Friday.  Steve had lived at the Avengers facility for months and he still hadn’t figured out how to work that damn remote.  Though, in some way, it seemed perfectly normal that Peggy should just barge into his space and arrange his life with a grace and ease he found almost unfathomable.

 

“You’re staring,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

 

“I, uh,” he looked away, blushing.

 

She shook her head and ignored him.  “Come on, Steve,” she said, “we’re having pizza and watching a movie.  I know you’re hungry.”

 

Peggy moved the pizza box to the coffee table, along with a roll of paper towels and then toed off her shoes and curled up in the corner of the couch, adjusting the volume on the TV.  Steve followed her, taking a seat on the opposite end.  Though, truth told, the couch wasn’t very big and they were nearly touching.  

 

Peggy reached over and held up her glass.  With a reluctant smile, he clinked his glass against hers and they both downed the contents in a single gulp.  Steve choked on it, coughing.  The humiliation was almost worth it for the way Peggy smiled at him.

 

Steve hadn’t actually seen this entire movie before.  He saw the first part, but then the sirens in the camp had gone off and he was away on a mission.  He’d passed it up on cable a few times.  Watching it on the classic movie channel had always made him feel a bit depressed.  But here, with Peggy, it felt ... comfortable.

 

The pizza was good.  The movie was good.  The company was much more than simply good.  Even the booze, in very small amounts, was nice.  It made everything a little warm and fuzzy.

 

By the time the movie was over, the pizza was done and they had both migrated to the middle of the couch, sitting side by side, slumped against each other.  Peggy flipped the TV over to some twenty-four hour home shopping channel and muted the sound.

 

Their legs were touching, both propped against the coffee table.  They were both barefoot.  Steve’s sweats had ridden up, exposing his ankle and part of his shin.  Peggy was staring at their feet, side by side.  Her feet were much smaller and her toes were painted red.  Her leg, where it was next to his shin was significantly darker than his.  He looked positively anemic by comparison.

 

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

 

“That I’ve rarely felt more Irish,” he admitted, looking at her.  Her face was very close.

 

“Those are some white legs,” she agreed.  “You might try running in shorts.”

 

He frowned, shaking his head.  “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

 

She laughed at him and then sighed, staring up at the ceiling.  “Why is it that some stranger from a parallel universe is the first person in seventy years to make me feel normal?” she asked quietly.

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but the feeling is mutual.”

 

She looked at him and the smile was a little sad.  “What happened to your Peggy?” she asked.

 

He shrugged.  “She lived a long, fruitful life while I was on ice,” he said.  “She’s still alive.”  He frowned,  “But she’s ... unwell.  Her mind comes and goes.”  He took a deep breath.  “She was the director of SHIELD for decades, committed her life to making the world a better place.  She married, had a family.”

 

“Were you two ever ...” she asked.

 

He pursed his lips together, frowning.  “No,” he said.  “I have several lifetimes worth of regrets.  I never even got to take her dancing.”

 

Peggy stared up at the ceiling.  “Bucky’s funeral was last week,” she said quietly.  Steve could see the tears standing in her eyes.  “He, uh ... there wasn’t much Bucky left in him at the end.  I lost him in the ice.”  She looked over at Steve.  “I think he recognized me.  Once.”  She sighed.  “Funny how much that mattered, just to have someone I knew recognize me for who I am and not from some damn press release or history book.”

 

Steve nodded.  He knew _exactly_ what she meant.  He looked down at the floor.  “Bucky’s still alive in my time,” he said cautiously.  “He’s ... like us.  Kinda.”

 

Her brow furrowed and she pushed herself up straighter, turning toward him.  “Like us?”

 

Steve nodded, both desperate to talk about it with her and wounded that she seemed so eager to hear about Bucky.  He got it, he did.  She and Bucky were soldiers together.  They fought side by side.  And it wasn’t like Steve wasn’t used to Bucky getting the girl.  But of all the girls Steve had ever known, Peggy was the only one who had ever looked past Bucky and been _his_ , even if it was in name only.  

 

Apparently not in this world.

 

“I thought I lost him in the war,” Steve said.  “It was a total cockup of a mission.  He was trying to protect me.  He fell ...”  He sighed.  “That was it.  No body.  We thought he was gone.”

 

Peggy’s eyes were shiny.  “When did you find out he wasn’t dead?”

 

“Coupla months ago,” Steve said.  “He was taken by the KGB, actually a faction of Hydra within the KGB.  They played with his mind, used him as a weapon.  He was an incredibly effective assassin for fifty years.  They called him the Winter Soldier.”

 

Peggy seemed to take that all in.  “But you found him?” she pressed.

 

“He found me,” Steve said darkly.  “I was his mission  He was supposed to kill me.”  He took a deep breath and looked  at Peggy.  “But in one of those moments he ... recognized me.  He couldn’t do it.”  He shrugged.  “He’s not completely Bucky.  But he knows me.”  He shrugged.   “It’s a work in progress.”

 

Slowly, she reached out, placing her hand gently on his forearm.  “You and Bucky have each other,” she said, giving him a watery smile.  “You have someone who knows you.”

 

Steve shrugged.  “Yeah.  I guess.”  He sighed.  “Until Tony finds out.  I’m pretty sure Bucky was responsible for his parents’ murder.”

 

Peggy’s face fell.  “Oh, _damn_.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said dryly.

 

“God, this is depressing me,” Peggy said.  She stood up and Steve watched as she walked over to the counter and grabbed the Asgardian ale.  She poured a splash in her glass and then one in his, handing it to him.  They toasted again and Steve managed not to choke this time.

 

“ _Damn_ ,” Peggy swore, shaking her head as she set her empty cup on the coffee table.  She sank back down onto the couch, staring blindly at the TV.  “Why can’t anything ever be easy?” she asked.

 

“I ask myself that a lot,” Steve said.

 

She looked over at him expectantly.

 

“I got nothin’,” he said.

 

She sighed, frowning.

 

Steve scooted down next to her and they sat there for a long time, staring at nothing.  Peggy finally looked over at him.  “So do you have someone, back home?”

 

He turned his head toward her, their faces were nearly touching.  “No,” he said quietly.   “I don’t.”

 

“Why not?” she pressed.

 

He opened his mouth and then shut it, frowning.  “Just waiting on the right dance partner, I guess.”

 

Peggy’s eyes narrowed for a moment and she blinked at him.  Slowly, she rolled toward him.  Her hand came up, fingers lightly tracing across his forehead, the side of his face.  Steve’s arm wrapped around her back, holding her to his side.  Things were definitely warm and fuzzy again.

 

“You have the same eyes,” she said quietly.

 

He smiled.  “So do you.”

 

She tried to frown at him, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling.  Her finger traced across his bottom lip.  “So you and your Peggy, you never - “

 

“She kissed me,” he said.  “Once.”

 

“Once?” she said, frowning.  She pushed herself up and Steve had a panicked moment when he thought she was leaving, but no, she climbed on top of him, straddling him, her arms braced against the back of the couch on either side of his head as she leaned down toward him.  Steve’s hands found her hips, his fingers flexing, holding her close.  From this angle, he could completely see down her shirt.

 

Peggy followed his line of vision and smirked at him as he blushed.  “Why only once?”

 

“Probably because Colonel Phillips was there,” Steve admitted.  “There wasn’t time for more.  I was trying to catch Schmidt’s bomber.”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Peggy said knowingly.  She laughed.  “I’m sure Chet enjoyed the show.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said dryly, “he seemed real impressed.”

 

She leaned closer to him.  She was so close it was hard for him to focus on her face.  When she spoke, he could feel her lips brush against his.  “What about now?” she asked.  “Do you think he’d be impressed?”

 

Steve licked his lips.  “ _I’m_ impressed.”

 

“That’s good,” Peggy said smugly, “because I _am_ impressive.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but she kissed him.  He sucked in a harsh breath and she tilted her head, slanting her mouth against his, brushing his tongue with her own.  Steve growled, his fingers biting into her hips, pulling her against him.

 

Peggy gasped, breaking off the kiss, pushing herself into a sitting position and grinding her hips against his.  Their respective choices of clothing were no help in disguising just how impressed Steve was.  “ _Fuck_ ,” she cursed.  

 

She looked down at him, mouth open in a pant.  “This is a bad idea,” she said.

 

He nodded.  “I know.”  He pulled her down and kissed her again.  They rolled over on the couch, Steve on top of Peggy.  It was cramped and awkward, but they continued to kiss and touch, straining against each other.  Steve’s shirt came off first, followed quickly by Peggy’s.  The couch was definitely not big enough.  

 

One of them kicked the coffee table, sending it crashing into the far wall and then they rolled onto the floor, Steve pinned beneath Peggy.  While not comfortable, the floor was definitely better for maneuverability.  Peggy ground against him and Steve arched up against her.  

 

She groaned and stopped for a moment, biting down on her bottom lip, watching him.  Slowly, she reached behind herself and undid the clasp of her bra, but held the material to her chest.  Steve looked up at her, at her swollen lips, her tousled hair.  She was breathing hard, her chest heaving.  Slowly, he reached up and drew the shoulder straps down her arms, skimming his fingers over her flushed skin.  She shivered, but didn’t break eye contact.

 

Taking a deep breath, she let him pull the bra away, leaving her bare from the waist up.  Steve was secretly glad she wasn’t grinding against him, because, really, at that moment it wouldn’t have taken much.  She was so beautiful.  Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, gathering her close.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and he threaded his fingers through her hair, kissing her deeply.

 

They both groaned as her breasts pressed against his chest.  One of his hands skimmed up her side, gently cupping her breast.  God, they were perfect.  He shuddered, quickly sucking in a gasp of air as he desperately tried to remember baseball stats for the ‘41 Dodgers.

 

Peggy held very still and soon enough the moment passed and he kissed her again.  She returned the kiss, but it was softer, more gentle.  She pressed kisses along his cheekbones, down his jaw.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly.

 

“Tell you what?” he asked, being deliberately obtuse.

 

“Dammit, Steve,” she swore.  She pulled back and looked at him.  “If I’d known you hadn’t done this before, I might have played a little hard to get.   _Maybe_.”  She looked over at the broken coffee table.  “And I would have left the booze at home.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.  “Does it seem like I’m taking offense at your approach?” he asked.

 

“That’s not the point,” she said.

 

“It _is_ the point,” he continued seriously.  “You asked me why I didn’t have someone and I told you.  I was waiting for the right partner.  I’m not waiting anymore.  I’m not missing another opportunity to be with you.  I don’t know how or why I’m here, but I’m not going to waste it.”

 

Her expression softened and she took his face in her hands, kissing him again.  She kissed his jaw again, down his throat.  She scratched her nails down his back, making him shiver.  “Not that I’m complaining about your chaste lifestyle,” she said, “but it is a crime against humanity that you’ve been keeping this body to yourself.  Jesus.  It’s even better than I thought.  We need to get you some clothes that actually fit.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh.  “You were thinking about my body?”  It sounded absurd.

 

She pulled back and looked at him like he was an idiot.  She seemed to realize he wasn’t kidding and she leaned back, bracing her hands on the floor behind her as she studied him.  Steve wasn’t sure it was having the effect she intended since her legs were still wrapped around his waist and she was topless.

 

She pursed her lips together, staring at him.  “Are you telling me you hadn’t considered it?”

 

“My body?” he asked.  “No, not really.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “ _Our_ bodies,” she clarified.  She just looked at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement.  “Steve, before you, I have _never_ met anyone who could come close to matching me physically.”  

Steve shrugged, frowning.  “I, uh ... wear a lot of sweatpants these days,” he said.  “I really try not to think about ... _that_ as much as I can.  Especially around you.”

 

She smiled at him and sat up again, wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing her breasts against his chest.  “Do you think I’d be offended?” she asked.  “Knowing that you get hard thinking about me?”

 

He groaned, pressing a hard kiss to her neck to avoid having to look at her.

 

“I wouldn’t,” she assured him.  "It's rather flattering.  I think it's probably a good thing you don't have any idea how appealing you are.  You'd be impossible."

 

Steve just shook his head dismissively.  

 

She touched his jaw gently, urging him to look at her, which he did.  “So, now that I brought it up, what do you think about the possibilities with our compatibility?”

 

Steve swallowed thickly, but couldn’t come up with any words.

 

She didn’t seem shocked by his silence.  She kissed him gently on the lips and then moved to his neck, pressing hard kisses to the corded muscles.  She took his earlobe between her teeth and bit down gently.  It was like a bolt of electricity straight to his groin.  “I’m as strong as you,” she whispered.  “As fast.”  She sucked on his earlobe again.  “With as much stamina and cellular regeneration.”

 

He was breathing hard, his fingers biting into her hips.  She pulled back and looked at him.  “What is your refractory period even like?” she asked.

 

He just stared at her.

 

She arched an eyebrow at him.  “You do jerk off, don’t you?  How long does it take before you can get hard again?”

 

His mouth fell open, but he wasn’t physically capable of forming any coherent words.

 

She just smiled at him wickedly and shrugged.  “Let’s find out, shall we?”  She unwrapped her legs from around his waist and pushed him back on the floor.  Steve wanted to stop her.  He knew he needed to.  Because, while he wasn’t a prideful man, he knew he was going to be about as impressive as the average thirteen year old if she touched him.

 

But he couldn’t bring himself to stop her.  He had never wanted _anything_  in his life as much as he wanted Peggy in that moment.

 

She crouched over him, kissing him deeply.  He cupped her breasts, feeling the hard points of her nipples against his palms.  Her kisses moved from his mouth, down his neck, to his chest.  Her fingers caught in the waistband of his sweats and he helped her pull them as his boxer briefs down his legs until he could kick them away.

 

Her hand brushed against his inner thigh and he nearly jumped.  He could feel her smile against his abdomen before she pressed a hard kiss there.  And then her hand was there, cupping him, touching him.  He ground his teeth together, screwing his eyes shut as he thought about baseball stats.  It wasn’t working.

 

He looked down just in time to see her take him into her mouth.  It was the absolute shock of her doing that for him, that prevented him from completely embarrassing himself.  He watched her head bob as she took him deep into her throat before pulling back to the tip and looking up at him.  When she took him in her mouth again, he was lost, coming with a hiss, teeth clenched as he arched off the floor.

 

He was lying there, breathing hard, staring blindly up at the ceiling as she crawled up his body, her face coming into his line of sight.  “I really didn’t mean to get you in such a state,” she said.

 

“Yes you did,” he countered.

 

“Yes,” she admitted, “I did.”  He watched as she pushed herself to her feet and slowly shimmied out of her shorts, leaving her completely naked.  It was a breathtaking sight.  She held her hand out to him.  “Come on,” she said, “we’re too old to be fucking on the floor.”

 

He stood up and let her lead him into the bedroom, not protesting when she pushed him down onto the bed and quickly climbed after.  She straddled him, rubbing against him.  “Jesus,” she swore, “you’re hard already?”  
  


This time, he at least managed, “Extenuating circumstances.”  It helped that the bedroom was significantly darker than the living room.  It gave him the space he needed to speak.

 

She grasped him in her hand and slid down on him, moaning as he filled her.  Once he was seated to the hilt, she stopped, bracing her hands on his chest.  She guided one of his hands to where they were joined, showed him how to rub her.  Her breathing became shallower and he could feel her internal muscles tightening around his cock.  She started to move slowly and he continued to rub her, taking queues from how she was moving about how hard or fast to touch her.

  
Before long, she was crying out, shivering above him.  He pulled her close, kissing her as she caught her breath and then he rolled them both, bracing himself up on his elbows as he drove into her, finding his own release.


	5. Chapter 5

They were quiet, lying on their sides, his front to her back, him curled around her.  He made her feel safe in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with his ability to physically protect her and everything to do with the fact that he was Steve.

 

It was nearly dawn.  They spent all night together and Peggy knew they had barely brushed the surface of what they could be like.  It was slightly terrifying, especially without the alcoholic haze to blunt the edges of her perception.

 

Steve was untried, but far from innocent.  He enthusiastically participated in anything and everything, so long as she initiated.  She knew from experience that his hesitancy would melt away, that he would become more confident, more the initiator.  And that his imagination and problem solving capabilities would be unrivaled.

 

That was the rub, though, wasn’t it?  She knew him in _this_ intimate capacity.  Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally.  

 

But he didn’t know her like that.

 

Peggy knew.  She _knew_ she should have been honest with him up front.  She was going to blame the space booze.  Because she generally wasn’t this much of a shit, even when she was so lonely she was about to die from it.  She’d taken advantage of the situation, used what she knew about him to push things far beyond anything he would have dreamed of doing.  What was wrong with her?

 

She sighed, knowing she had to come clean if there was any hope of salvaging anything meaningful between them.  “I asked you about your Peggy,” she said quietly.  “Why didn’t you ask me about my Steve?”

 

His hand, which had been tracing idle patterns on her hip, stopped.  She knew she had thrown him.  “I, uh, I don’t know,” he finally said.  “What’s there to ask about?  Tony said he died in the fifties.”

 

She rolled over onto her back and looked at him in the dim morning light, stunned by his response.  She’d been expecting some excuse about respecting her privacy, but not a flat out lack of interest.  “Seriously?” she asked, “that’s what you’re going with?  He died in the fifties, so he didn’t matter?”

 

His brow furrowed.  “You ... and Bucky ...” he said.

 

She frowned at him.  “Were dear _friends_ ,” Peggy continued.  “And he recognized me, when no one else could, which meant so much to me.”  She sighed, realizing he truly had no clue.  Slowly, she rolled completely over, so she was facing him, her head on the same pillow.

 

“I loved Steve,” she said.  “ _Loved_ him. We were lovers when I ...”

 

His mouth looked like it was trying to form a word, but he didn’t say anything.  Finally, he cleared his throat.  “So you and ... Steve?”  
  


She had no idea what to make of his incredulity, but she was more than a little irritated on her Steve’s behalf.  Frowning, she propped herself up on an elbow, looking down at him.  “The fact that I came over here and sucked you off on the floor of your apartment wasn’t a hint?” she asked.

 

“I, uh, I ...”

 

“You think I do this with every interdimensional traveler who stops by?” she demanded.  “I should go see if Thor’s in town.”  She pushed herself up and climbed out of bed.

 

“ _Peggy!_ ” he managed, scrambling after her, reaching for her.

 

She stopped, mostly because she knew she was being completely unfair.  She was attacking him to cover up for her own guilt about not being honest in the first place.  She allowed him to pull her back to him, standing between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed, naked and vulnerable, hair all rumpled.

 

“I just ...” he sighed.  “No, I didn’t suspect that you and your Steve had been together,” he said.  “Because I remember being with my Peggy when I was that little guy.  And in a million years, I could never imagine that she could ever want me like that.”

 

Peggy frowned down at him, willing her chin not to wobble.  “He was the only one,” she whispered.  “The _only_ one who didn’t make me feel like a freak.  And I lost him when I went after Schmidt.”  She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “No one even knew,” she said.  “I couldn’t even mourn him because he was just some SSR footnote.”

 

Steve pulled her down, and she let him, curling into his lap as he held her close.  “I didn’t mean to make light of your relationship with Steve,” he said quietly.  “I really didn’t.  I’m sorry.”

 

She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.  God, he smelled like Steve.  How was that even possible?  How could he be so obviously different and still smell the same?  And sound the same?  “I know,” she said quietly.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you ... before.”

 

His arms tightened around her waist.  “It wouldn’t have changed anything for me.”  He sighed.  “Though I’m not sure how I feel about being compared to ... _me_.”

 

“I wasn’t comparing,” she said.

 

“I’m an awful liar,” he said, “so take this for what it’s worth, but _you’re_ an awful liar.”

 

“I’m not an awful liar,” she protested.  “I’m a fantastic liar.  I just don’t generally see the point anymore.”

 

He nudged her until she looked at him.  “I have history with my Peggy and you have history with your Steve,” he said, sounding exhausted. “But it’s all history.  I don't know how or why it happened, but we’re both here now.  Together.  And I’m sick of regretting things.”

 

She sighed, tracing her fingers across his cheekbone.  “Yeah.  Me too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy answered the knock on the door, frowning at Claire.  “Yes?”

 

Claire looked around her.  “He’s here, isn’t he?”

 

“Why would you say that?” Peggy asked.

 

“Because he isn’t anywhere else,” Claire said, pushing past Peggy into her apartment.  “And Barton said the two of you went into town today.”

 

Peggy closed the door and followed Claire into the apartment.  It wasn’t huge, but it was significantly larger than the quarters Steve had been occupying.  There was a full sized kitchen and living room, two bedrooms and an office.  The latter of which was where Steve was.

 

“He needed ... things,” Peggy said, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.  

 

Claire made a pot of coffee and then sat down, joining Peggy at the table as it brewed.  “Like what?”

 

“Clothes that fit,” Peggy said lamely.  “And to not be stuck here for the afternoon with everyone gawking at him like he’s a damn roadside attraction.”

 

Claire just sat there, looking at Peggy, frowning.  “Are we talking about him, or you?  Because he doesn’t strike me as someone who gets easily bent out of shape about things.”

 

“You’re the one who is always after me to get out to do things,” Peggy said.  “Now I do, and I’m getting the third degree.”

 

“I’m not saying he’s not nice to look at, but we don’t even know who this guy is,” Claire said vehemently.  “I don’t know how you strong armed Tony into letting him on the team.  I just hope you realize how big of a chance you’re taking, with the team and with yourself.”

 

“You may not know him,” Peggy said firmly.  “But _I_ do know him.”

 

Claire shook her head.  “You know some version of him, Cap.  Apparently some version of him that looked nothing like he does now.  You have no idea what he’s done since our two timelines diverged.  He could be nothing like the man you remember.”

 

“I do know what he’s done,” Peggy said curtly, “because it’s almost exactly the same thing that I’ve done.  He was given Erskine’s formula.  He was paraded around as a government marketing ploy.  He was a soldier who sacrificed everything for the greater good and woke up seventy years later to find out it cost him everything.  And he’s been stuck living this interminable half-life ever since with nothing but the fight to sustain him.”

 

Claire raised an eyebrow at her.  “You realize that’s more than you’ve ever said to me about your own history?”

 

Peggy shrugged.  “My history is public record,” she said.  “If you were curious, you can just look it up.  Or visit the Smithsonian.”

 

“It’s not quite the same, though, is it?”  Claire pushed.  She sighed.   “Look, you’ve damn near been on suicide watch for months  - “

 

“I haven’t been on suicide watch,” Peggy countered darkly.

 

“Fine,” Claire amended, “watching you stoically suffer in your interminable half-life almost put _me_ on suicide watch.  And now your gender bent alter ego shows up looking like a cover model for Men’s Health and no one can find either of you for hours on end.  I’m not saying the guys have a lot of imagination.  I’m just saying it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what’s going on.”

 

Peggy groaned, rubbing her temples with her fingers.  “God, what a pack of gossipy hens.”

 

Claire snorted, rising to her feet.  She poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Peggy.  “What else are they going to do with their time?  Have you even talked to Bruce since this guy showed up?” She leaned back against the counter, watching Peggy.

 

Peggy refused to meet her gaze.  “Despite all your hopes, there is nothing for me to talk to Bruce about,” she said.  “There is nothing between us beyond what you’ve seen yourself.”

 

“If you say so,” Claire replied sourly.

 

“And Steve’s not my ... gender bent alter ego,” Peggy said, frowning.  “That makes it sound weird.”

 

“So what is this then?” Claire asked.  “Your second chance?  His second chance?”

 

Peggy shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I just know that it’s what we both want right now.”

 

“Look,” Claire said, “I don’t want to put a damper on things because this is the first time you’ve seemed like life is more than a chore in as long as I’ve known you.  But what happens to you when we find a way to send him back?”

 

Peggy shook her head, closing her eyes.  “I don’t know.”

 

“Please, Cap,” Claire said, and then fell silent.  She sighed.  “I’m the medical director.  I know more about your personal history than most.  And unlike those PR jerkoffs at the Smithsonian, I’m not one to discount something just because it doesn’t make sense at first glance.  Just ... take care of yourself.”

 

Peggy smiled wryly.  “That’s what I’m trying to do.  At this point, I favor potential disasters over regret.”

 

Claire looked like her head hurt.  “Yeah,” she said, “just remember what I said.”

 

* * *

 

 

They finished their evening run and were back at Peggy’s apartment.  They had both pushed themselves hard.  Peggy won, as usual.  Steve was starting to see the differences in the way Erskine’s formula had affected both of them. He had more power, but Peggy definitely had more stamina.  He could beat her in a sprint, but definitely not after an hour long run, even with his cellular regeneration.  Anyone else, yes.  Peggy, no.

 

They typically didn’t talk on their runs and this evening had been no different.  Steve knew something was wrong.  Something had been wrong since Claire stopped by earlier.  Steve had been in the office sketching up the catch and release mechanism for his shield as best he could remember it.  He’d tried to avoid eavesdropping as much as possible.

 

But after Claire left, Peggy had been distant, guarded.  She wasn’t angry with him, but something had changed since this morning.  He’d made several attempts to draw her out, but so far nothing had worked.

 

He walked through the bedroom and into the master bath, peeling off clothes as he went.  Peggy’s bathroom was much larger than the one had been in his quarters.  There was an enormous walk-in shower.  He turned on the water and waited for it to warm up.

 

He watched as Peggy walked into the bathroom, scooting his dirty clothes into a pile and then adding hers to the mix.  She pulled her hair out of the small ponytail and raked her fingers through the sweat-damp locks, causing them to stand up in disarray.  She frowned at herself in the mirror.

 

“I hate this hair,” she said.  “Tell me why someone can’t manage to design an effective helmet that’s compatible with a marginally flattering haircut.”

 

Steve hooked an arm around her waist and pressed a hard kiss to the side of her sweaty head.  “You look great.”

 

She frowned at him, but preceeded him into the shower, holding the door open.  He followed.  There were two shower heads, one on each wall and he joined Peggy under the spray.  She sighed, dousing her head and sweeping her wet locks back from her face.  Almost absently, she handed him a bar of soap.

 

He watched her wash her hair as he lathered the soap between his hands.  The scent caught his attention and he looked down at the bar, studying it.  “Where’d you find this?” he asked.  He hadn’t seen this soap since before Erskine pulled him into Project Rebirth.  It had always been his favorite, mostly because it was the only one he’d found that didn’t make him break out in hives.  At least before the serum.  After the serum, hives weren’t an issue.

 

She rinsed the bubbles out of her face and looked at him.  “Amazon,” she said.  “There’s a little boutique in Montreal that custom makes small batches of vintage formulations.”

 

“This was always my favorite,” he said.

 

She looked at him.  “I know,” she said.  She finished rinsing her hair and frowned at him.  “Is this weird?” she asked.  “I know you, I know what kinds of creature comforts you like, I know your favorite toothpaste and that you don’t like to stop reading a book on an odd numbered chapter and you don’t sleep with the windows open when it’s raining out.”  She paused.  “Though I suppose that last one isn’t so much of an issue anymore.”

 

He shook his head.  “No,” he said, “it’s not an issue anymore.  I don’t get respiratory infections.  Or any infections, really. Though I still don’t ever sleep with the windows open when it’s raining.”  He frowned.  “Force of habit.”

 

She just watched him, her expression tight.  He understood what she meant.  He loved Peggy, but mostly from afar.  He knew what her perfume smelled like, he knew she was a hell of a shot, he knew she could throw a punch better than most of the 107th.  But he hadn’t known the little, quiet moments of her life.  

 

The reverse wasn’t true of Captain Carter and Skinny Steve.  They’d had a life together, however briefly and privately.  Steve wasn’t overly excited at the prospect of examining that more closely.

 

He shrugged.  “It’s not like you can un-know these things,” he said.  “It’s a little weird, but I’m willing to deal with a little weird for,” he motioned to the space between them, “ _this_.”

 

“You’re willing to deal with a little weird for showering together?”

 

He paused for a moment.  “Honestly, yes,” he admitted.  “But you know that’s not what I meant.”

 

“I know what you meant,” she admitted.  She was quiet as she finished washing her hair and then grabbed some poofy scrub thing and lathered it with shower gel.

 

Steve washed himself without once taking his eyes off Peggy.  The play of water over her body was mesmerizing.  Admittedly, he had no ability to really compare her pre-serum body to her post-serum body, but clearly she hadn’t experienced the same kind of outward physical enhancement he had.  He suspected it had more than a little to do with the difference between the starting point and peak human form.  For Steve, there had been metaphorical miles to go.  Peggy, however, was already pretty damn close.

 

She was maybe a little bit taller than she had been, no more than an inch.  It wasn’t like she was short to begin with.  He suspected she probably had more muscle definition now, but she’d always been able to hold her own and she still had very feminine curves.  As she’s said last night, her strength and speed and stamina were on par with his.  

 

He had watched the way she moved from the moment he first saw her.  She wasn’t like Natasha, catlike grace and the subtlety of a sneak attack.  Which wasn’t to say that Peggy wasn’t graceful.  She was.  There was a definite economy to her motions.  She was decisive, surefooted, strong.  She had poise and purpose.

 

She glanced over her shoulder at him.  “You’re always watching me,” she said.

 

“You’re very ... shiney.”  It was true.

 

She turned around and leaned back against the shower wall, looking at him.  “I’m shiney?”

 

“Mmm, hmm,” he responded.

 

“Should I be flattered?” she asked.  “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and you’re reduced to shiney and grunting?”

 

He set the bar of soap in a recessed tray in the wall and closed the distance between them, bracing his hands against the tile on either side of her shoulders.  He watched her pupils dilate.  He could hear her breathing increase.  Fight or flight response.  Instinctively, she didn’t like being caged in by his larger form, but she also didn’t protest.  Involuntary responses aside, this wasn’t a fight.  

 

Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her.  She reciprocated eagerly, her adrenalin response happy to have an outlet.  He pulled her flush against his body and she groaned at the feel of his erection pressing against her belly.  He stepped backwards, pulling her with him, back under the spray from the shower.  

 

The water sluiced over her shoulders and he traced the rivulets with his finger, down her chest and breast to her nipple.  They both watched the play of light on wet skin.  He nipped at her earlobe.  “Shiny,” he repeated, circling her nipple with his fingertip.  Peggy shivered and gave him a completely predatory look.  She backed him against the far wall, to a little bench, urging him to sit down and then climbed on top of him.

 

Steve guided himself to her entranced, groaning as she slid down on him.  She didn’t tease either of them this time, no dirty words or saucy looks.  There was a single minded determination in her movements as she rose and fell on him.  One of her hands grasped his shoulder and the other was between their bodies, rubbing herself.  He could feel her tighten around him, watched her bite down on her bottom lip.  He was so close, his fingers digging into her hips.

 

“Not yet, not yet,” she whispered.  “I’m almost there.”

 

He nodded, screwing his eyes shut, willing his body to cooperate.  She let out a breathy whine and went still, her fingernails digging into his shoulder deep enough to draw blood.  She released a ragged breath, slumping against him.  “ _Fuck_.”

 

Steve sat there, gritting his teeth, waiting.  She looked at him and leaned in close, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down gently as she started to move on him again.  That was all it took.  He slammed her hips down against his own, holding her to him as he came.  He finally slumped back against the wall, breathing hard.  Peggy rested against him.

 

“We wasted so much water,” she said blandly.

 

He smiled.  “You say the most romantic things.”

  
END CHAPTER


	6. Chapter 6

Steve followed Peggy through the hangar toward the waiting Quinjet.  Barton and Natasha were already on board and as soon as he and Peggy were inside, they started moving.  Steve grabbed a handhold, using it to brace himself as the jet turned.  He watched the view out the cockpit windows.  It was dark.  He and Peggy had been in bed when she got the call.  They’d thrown on their uniforms and headed to the hangar.

 

“Cap?” Barton called.

 

Steve instinctively looked up before he remembered that Barton was talking to Peggy.  He watched as she walked up front, leaning over Barton as he piloted the jet to takeoff.

 

“Stark’s already en route with Rhodey,” Natasha said over her shoulder as she typed into a console.  

 

Peggy turned to her and nodded curtly.

 

Steve pulled at his chestplate, trying to settle it in place.  It was kevlar, good quality, though not on par with the material that comprised his super suit back home.  It definitely hadn’t been designed for his proportions.  This gear was going to drive him nuts.  At least he had his shield, even if the handholds needed work.  Ilya had painted it dark gray, to match the black material of his Strike Team uniform.  That was going to take some getting used to.

 

Peggy’s uniform, by contrast, was very similar to his own stealth suit, a dark blue with few embellishments save for a single star in the middle of her chest.  No stripes.  Her boots had a thicker tread than the kind he preferred and she had a holster on each leg for firearms and two more at the small of her back.

 

Natasha apparently finished what she was doing and turned off the console.  She rounded on him, holding out her hand.  “Rogers.”

 

“Romanoff,” he responded, shaking her hand and nodding in acknowledgement.

 

“That’s Barton up there,” Natasha said, cocking her head toward Clint.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said, “I know.”

 

Natasha narrowed her eyes on him.  “So you really know all of us?” she asked.  “From your ... dimension or realm or whatever?”

 

“Some version of you, yes,” Steve admitted.

 

“That’s fucking weird,” Barton yelled from the front.

 

Steve shrugged.  “I get that more often than you’d think.”

 

Natasha winked at him and chucked him on the shoulder.  “Funny one, eh?” she said.  “Can’t say I figured Cap to go for a funny guy.”  She looked him up and down. “Though you do fit the whole superhero archetype.”  She turned and took a seat, tapping on her phone.  

 

Peggy ended her conversation with Barton and came to stand by Steve.  “Take a seat,” she said.  “It’ll be a while.”

 

* * *

 

Steve grasped the hilt of the knife embedded in his chest plate and yanked it free before rounding on his attacker and leveling a kick right in his solar plexus, sending him careening out a window.  He tossed the knife away and bolted down the stairs of the rotting apartment building.  

 

He saw Natasha in the corner, saw the grenade.  He didn’t think, he just moved, scooping up Natasha and using the shield to absorb the force of the blast.  The explosion blew them both out the window.  Steve twisted his body as they fell, so he took the impact, rather than Natasha.  They skidded to a stop not far from where Tony and Rhodey had a group of armed fighters trapped.  Absently, Steve helped Natasha to her feet and then took off in search of Peggy.  

 

Over the comm, Stark asked, “How’s it going, Cap?”

 

“Smashing,” came Peggy’s tight reply.  

 

He found her a block away, taking on three guys, professional mercs, part of the same Algerian outfit headed by Batroc that Steve had encountered back when he still worked for SHIELD.  Peggy was doing a hell of a job beating the crap out of the trio and damn she was good with a knife.  At the risk of stepping on her toes, Steve used his shield to knock one of the mercs unconscious.  Peggy gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement and concentrated her efforts on one of the remaining mercs, leaving the other for Steve.  They made short work of the pair.

 

Looking at the unconscious mercs, Peggy said, “Clear.”

 

“Same story here,” Tony replied.  “Let’s round ‘em up and head home.”

 

Steve always hated this part of the mission, waiting around for whatever passed for the local authorities to show up while Natasha and Tony played with whatever data they could find.

 

Peggy stood nearby, but they hadn’t really spoken. Turning toward her, Steve asked, “Where are Wanda and Vision?”

 

“Busy,” Tony said, interrupting, crossing the distance to where Steve and Peggy stood.  He nodded at Steve.  “Pretty fancy work back there with Nat,” he said.  “Not bad for an old man.”

 

Steve nodded in acknowledgement.  “Thanks.”

 

“You seem pretty good with that shield,” Tony continued.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said.  He looked at Tony.  “It’s handier than you’d think.”

 

Tony frowned.  “Ilya said you mentioned some sort of catch and release design to him.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said.  He actually had the sketch in his pocket and pulled it out, giving Tony a rough overview of how it worked.

 

Tony looked at Steve warily.  “That’s a _shockingly_ brilliant design,” he said.

 

Steve managed not to roll his eyes.  “It’s your design,” he said.  “Not mine.”  He paused.  “The other you.  The one I know.”

 

Tony shrugged.  “Well, that explains it.”  He suddenly seemed much more interested in the design.  He wandered off with the sketch.

 

Peggy moved closer to Steve, inspecting the gash in his chestplate in the gray morning light.  “This isn’t going to work,” she said, motioning to the chestplate.

 

“Yeah,” Steve said.  “I tried to tell Ilya that.”

 

“I don’t think he had a good grasp on your level of physicality,” Peggy said dourly.

 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Steve asked.

 

She frowned at him.  “Smart ass.”

 

They stood in silence for several minutes.  Finally, Peggy looked at him.  “You were impressive out there,” she said quietly.  “How’d it feel?”

 

He shrugged.  “Good.   _Weird_.”  He shook his head.  “I suspect it’s kind of like what we were talking about yesterday,” he said.  “I know the team.  I know their moves.  I know the way they think, their strengths and weaknesses.  But none of them know me.”

 

Peggy nodded.  “Natasha mentioned what you did back there in the apartment block.  She said you saved her and it was like nothing.”

 

He shrugged.  “At home, I get paired with Natasha a lot,” he said.  “It was just instinct.  I grabbed her and moved.  I didn’t stop to think about the fact that she had no idea what to expect from me in that situation.”

 

“You two are close?” Peggy asked.

 

Steve nodded.  “We’re friends.  As much as it’s possible for a guy who’s a terrible liar to be friends with a professional spy.  We definitely had our friction, but there’s a lot of mutual respect.  I dragged her ass out of the fire enough times that she owes me.  I owe her too.”

 

“So you two weren’t ...” Peggy asked.  There was no jealousy that Steve could discern, just curiosity.

 

He shook his head, frowning.  “You already know there wasn’t anybody in my life like that.”

 

She looked away.  “There are lots of different ways to be with someone.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, “we weren’t anything more than friends.  Teammates.  She was always trying to set me up on dates.”

 

Peggy smiled at him.  “Did you ever go?”

 

He looked at her incredulously.  “Would you let Natasha set you up on a date?”

 

She frowned.

 

“There’s your answer,” he said tightly.

 

* * *

 

Steve sank down to the floor of the Quinjet, removing the various bits of holsters and body armor that Ilya had cobbled together.  None of it would be seeing a second time out.  Peggy joined him on the floor, removing her helmet and wriggling out of the top half of her suit, leaving her in a white tanktop and dark blue fatigue pants.  She raked a hand through her hair, causing it to stick up in uneven tufts.  They sat there, side by side for a long time, leaning against each other.

 

Peggy was holding her helmet in her hands and Steve took it from her, studying it.  He could see how it wouldn’t work with long hair.  Even as light as the thing was, it had to be hot as hell and it fit like a glove.  Unlike his helmet, it didn’t cover any of her face, but he could see grooves and closures where additional pieces could be strapped to it, goggles and faceplates, he assumed.  She hadn’t used either during the fight.  He understood.  It was always a tradeoff, maneuverability or safety and generally one was dependent on the other.

 

“Ilya couldn’t find a helmet for you?” she asked.

 

Steve frowned.  “I sketched him out some ideas, he’s supposed to have something next week.  I have some exacting specifications.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him.

 

He motioned to the back of his head.  “I, uh, had a hell of a skull fracture last year,” he said.  “Took me out for days.  I’d rather not repeat it.  That junk Ilya had was worse than nothing at all.”

 

She reached up and touched the back of his head, at the base of his skull.  That’s where it had been, after he was thrown several hundred feet out of the Insight helicarrier and into the Potomac  However, he also knew there was no discernable scar.  There never was.  Blessing and a curse.

 

Self-consciously, she lowered her hand, glancing around to see if Barton or Natasha had noticed.  It didn’t appear that either had.  Steve got the definite impression that regardless of how open she was behind closed doors, Peggy wasn’t into public displays of affection, which was just fine with him.

 

“I misspoke earlier,” he said, looking over at her.  “I said I knew the team.”  He blinked slowly.  “But I don’t know you.  It’s going to take me a while to figure out your style, to figure out where I need to be in relation to you.”

 

She smiled at him.  “Here’s good.”

 

He smiled back.  “Here is good.”

 

She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall.  “You’re used to being in charge of the team.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

“I’m not in charge,” he said.  “The team’s too volatile for an actual leader.  But the ship needs a rudder.  I try to guide things as much as possible.”

 

“Your people trust you,” she said.  “They follow you.”

 

He shrugged.  “Usually,” he admitted.  “Stark’s always a bit of a wild card, but even he’s come around lately.  He calls me the boss, though that’s usually just him being an ass.  They respect my expertise, even if they personally find me to be a bit old fashioned.”

 

She sighed.  “I probably would have made a better spy than a soldier,” she said.  “But that’s not the hand I was dealt.  So I make the tough calls.  Sometimes I think it should bother me more than it does.”

 

“You care about your team,” he said.  “You look out for them and they respect you. I watched them out there.  You all have each other’s backs.”

 

She nodded.  “Yeah, I think we finally found a balance.  Or we _had_ found a balance.”  She frowned at him.

 

Steve nodded.  Yeah.  Odd man out.  Story of his life.  “Wanda and Vision are busy trying to figure out how to send me home, aren’t they?” he asked.

 

“Yes, they are,” she said tightly.

 

“Your team doesn’t distrust me because I appeared out of thin air,” Steve said.  “They distrust me because they’re afraid I’m going to compromise you in ways that are going to get you hurt.”  He sighed.  He couldn’t fault their logic.  “They’re a volatile bunch of deeply dysfunctional people, but they care about you.”

 

“This is supposed to be making me feel better, right?” Peggy asked.

 

He frowned.  “Yeah.”

 

“You might want to work on your delivery.”

 

END CHAPTER


	7. Chapter 7

Steve walked in a wide circle, twenty feet from Peggy, watching her.  They were in one of the training rooms, barefoot and in workout gear.  He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt.  She was in a pair of tights and, God help him, a sports bra.  There were catwalks that ran along the ceiling.  Ilya was up there, taking notes.

 

Steve was on edge, watching Peggy.  This had been her idea, sparring so Ilya could see him in action, get a better idea of how his body armor needed to function.  Steve understood her reasoning, but he didn’t like it.  He had never really sparred before, not without seriously holding back.  Unless punching bags counted, which, they didn’t.  The closest he’d come to grappling with a physical equal was Schmidt, or maybe Bucky, though Steve hadn’t ever wanted to fight Bucky.  

 

Peggy thought this would be a useful exercise for both of them.  Steve wasn’t convinced.  He had no idea how to spar with someone he had absolutely no intention of ever hurting, even accidentally.  Watching the calculating look in Peggy’s eye, he didn’t think she had the same concerns.  She liked to win.

 

Even without having thrown a single punch, it was very apparent that their fighting styles were vastly different.  Steve moved, a lot.  In fact, most of his concentration on training the last few years had been in how to move quicker, more efficiently, more conservation of momentum.  And a lot of his movement was geared around using his shield as organically as possible.  Fast pursuit, fast attack.

 

By contrast, Peggy was the calm at the center of the storm.  She was an excellent shot and if she could, she would take out an opponent from a distance.  But if that wasn’t an option, she tended to root herself, to draw her opponents in close.  He knew, from watching her yesterday, that she favored a brutal initial attack and then simply outlasting her opponent as they tired.

 

She didn’t use a shield.  Hand to hand, she used a knife and her fists.  She was a dirty fighter, a bit of a brawler.  She favored Krav Maga, both for its grace and brutal efficacy.  

 

Cautiously, Steve closed the distance between them.  He watched how Peggy moved, shifting her weight, crouching lower, balanced on the balls of her feet.  She had a lower center of gravity and more stability than him, but he had a longer reach and more upper body strength.  They both knew how to play to their strengths.

 

He knew she was going to move a split second before she did it and he barely had time to dodge the punch.  He swung around, trying to sweep her legs, but she jumped and kicked out, catching him in the hip and sending him sprawling away.  He rolled and immediately bounced back up on his feet.

 

After that, Steve lost track.  They traded blows over and over.  She had a vicious left hook, but her right leg was weak.  If he could get her on the mat, he had the advantage simply by being half a foot taller and twice her weight.  But she adapted quickly, incorporating moves that he knew she’d borrowed from Natasha, leglocks, strangleholds and vicious hits to pressure points.

 

Steve tried to keep her at bay with sweeping kicks and it was somewhat effective.  She simply didn’t have his reach.  But the second she got in close, she was vicious, almost feral and he found himself responding in kind, throwing her harder than he intended, attacking more than he defended.

 

As the fight wore on, they were frustratingly evenly matched, and able to quickly adapt to each other’s fighting styles.  They could anticipate and counter almost effortlessly.  It forced both of them to dig deep, to push outside of their comfort zones.  Steve stopped pulling his punches - he didn’t think she’d ever pulled hers.  Rather than scare her, his aggression seemed to spur her on.  The harder he pushed, the harder she pushed back until they were working away at each other for dominance.

 

Steve swung at her and she ducked, slipping under his guard and delivering a blistering hit to his ribs.  He reached for her, grabbing her and she swept his legs out from under him, sending them both crashing to the mat.  Peggy immediately took advantage, twisting, locking her thighs around his neck.

 

“Uh, Cap?  Everything okay down there?”  

 

Both Steve and Peggy stopped, looking up at the catwalk.  Peggy immediately released him, and he gasped for breath.  

 

Banner stood there, with Barton at his side, watching as Steve and Peggy pushed themselves to their feet.

 

Steve watched Peggy wipe her upper lip with the back of her hand.  “Where’s Ilya?”

 

“He left like an hour ago,” Barton said, laughing, his amusement clear.  He was actually holding a bag of popcorn.

 

Steve looked at the display near the door.  It had been hours.  He’d had no idea.

 

“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Barton said pointedly.  “Go on.  I have money riding on this.  Give ‘im hell, Cap.”

 

Peggy frowned.  “Sorry to disappoint, gentlemen.”

 

“Dammit,” Barton groused, frowning at Banner.  “I told you to be quiet.”

 

Banner just shook his head and followed Barton down the catwalk, back toward the lab spaces.

 

* * *

 

Peggy and Steve walked in silence down the hall and then outside onto the green space.  It was early evening and the weather was starting to turn toward Fall.  Some of the leaves were yellowing and Peggy knew the trees would be a wash of oranges and reds in a week or two.  There was a slight chill in the air that prickled over her heated skin.   

 

They entered the building that housed the team quarters.  Steve waited as she opened the apartment door.  She walked down the short hall and into the middle of the kitchen.  Steve was standing half a step behind her, waiting.  She could hear him breathing.

 

She turned, grabbing him and he was already on her, gripping her tight, pulling her so hard against him that he pulled her off her feet.  She scrambled, gripping handfuls of his shirt until it ripped, kissing any flesh she could reach.  He stumbled, lurching into the cabinets, setting her back on her feet.  She pushed at the waistband of his sweats and he helped her push them down, kicking them and his shoes away.  He dropped to his knees, pressing her back against the cabinets.  The countertop bit into the small of her back as he grabbed each of her shoes in turn, tossing them away before peeling her tights and panties down her legs.  

 

He groaned, pushing his face against her abdomen, his fingers biting into her thighs.  She whimpered, her insides quivering as she gripped his shoulders.  He grabbed one of her legs, hooking her thigh over his shoulder and then he was there, licking and kissing the coarse hair between her legs, parting her, using his tongue and fingers.  She moaned as he licked her over and over, his tongue tracing patterns across her clit as two of his fingers entered her.  Her nails bit into his shoulders and he sucked her clit between his teeth, teasing gently as he curled his fingers inside her.  She shouted, coming, fighting to stay upright.

 

She needn't have bothered.  Steve pulled her down to the floor, covering her, driving into her in one, long thrust.  She keened, her back arching, legs wrapping around his waist as she pushed up into his thrusts.  He stopped for a mere moment, grabbing her sports bra in his hands, rending the material in two.  He groaned, taking one of her nipples into his mouth as he continued to drive into her, his hips smacking against hers.

 

She arched under him, unwrapping her legs from his waist as her stocking feet fought for purchase on the slick tile floor.  She couldn’t get the leverage she needed to flip them over.  He released her nipple from his mouth and nipped at her jaw, pressing hard kisses to the hollow beneath her ear.

 

He set the pace, driving her to two quick peaks before he rolled, flipping them over so she was on top.  She arched her back, splaying her hands against his chest as she rode him, hard.  His hands left her hips, skimming up her sides.  He grasped her upper arms and she met his gaze, holding it.  Her pace slowed and he pulled her down, one of his hands moving to cup the back of her head as he kissed her.

 

He braced his feet against the floor and pushed up into her, slowly, holding her against his body, his hands tracing over her back.  

 

“Come for me,” she whispered against his lips.

 

He nodded, rolling them over again.  He kissed her, his hands in her hair as he rocked against her.  It wasn’t long before his breathing was ragged, his eyes screwed tightly shut.  He tensed and surged against her.  She held him tight.  

 

He finally released a shuddering breath and pulled back, looking at her.  She reached up and brushed his sweat damp hair back from his forehead.  “I love you,” she said quietly.

 

He kissed her again, hard, before pulling back.  “I love you.”

  
  


* * *

 

They didn’t speak much during the evening as they made a simple dinner together, showered, pretended to watch TV.  They were both covered in bruises, but nothing worse than they’d have after a mission.  Peggy’s worst injury, a bone-deep bruise along her right thigh had actually been sustained in the dust up with the Algerian mercs the previous day - though the way she’d spent her afternoon hadn’t done it any favors.

 

They climbed into bed together and Steve immediately curled around her, holding her close.  She sighed, relishing the solid feel of him at her back.  Peggy wasn’t sure what had prompted her confession earlier.  She loved him.  She’d always loved him.  In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved him.

 

But when she told him those words this evening ... it meant something else.  It wasn’t just that she loved Steve and the idea of Steve.  It was that she loved _him_ , the man currently in her bed, the one who was so like Steve and yet so completely his own person.

 

She could almost hear his thoughts churning as they lay there in the dark.  She wondered if he was having the same existential crisis.  He loved the Peggy Carter he knew, the Peggy who was an SSR agent, and an ally, but never a soldier.  And never a lover.

 

She sighed, pressing back against him and his arms tightened at her waist.  Claire was right.  What would happen to them, if and when, they found a way to send him home?  Peggy had thought that heartache was preferable to regret, but now she wasn’t sure.  She lost him once and it nearly killed her.  How could she possibly stand to lose him again?

  
  


* * *

 

Claire frowned the next morning, looking at the deep abrasion on Peggy’s left shoulder, pursing her lips together, shaking her head.  “You know, when I stopped working the night shift in the city, I thought I was done with this crap.”

 

“Oh, please,” Peggy countered dryly.  “You’re the medical director for the Avengers.  You see worse than this daily.”

 

“Battle damage, yes,” Claire said, spraying the wound and covering it with a next generation second skin material that would accelerate healing.  “Not injuries from freaky sex shit.”

 

Peggy frowned sourly.  “That was from when we were sparring.”

 

“Oh, I know when it happened,” Claire said dryly.  “I heard about it from Barton.  You spent hours beating the crap out of each other.  Is that foreplay for you now?”

 

Peggy didn’t answer.

 

“So here’s a thought,” Claire said.  “How about you two get this shit figured out before you really hurt each other?”  She prodded experimentally at a bruise on Peggy’s ribs.

 

Peggy sucked in a quick, hissing breath.  

 

“I know it sounds great on paper,” Claire said, her voice quieter.  “Shared life experience, comparable physiology.  But the truth is, neither of you has a clue what that really means in day to day terms because you’ve never had a partner.  You’ve both pretended that you took that serum and nothing changed except your ability to fight for the good side.  Seventy goddamn years and neither of you have any idea what it really means to be ... _whatever_ you are.”

 

“Are you quite finished?” Peggy asked curtly.

 

“No,” Claire said.  “I still have to check your thigh.”

  
  


END CHAPTER


	8. Chapter 8

“No, I got it,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair, reading from the tablet in his hand.  “Commander Xanadu.”

 

Peggy frowned, trying to figure out what the hell the team was doing.  They were all sitting around the conference table and there were intel reports up on the walls, though nobody seemed to be paying any attention to those.

 

“Give me that,” Barton said, swiping the tablet out of Tony’s hands.  He tapped at it.  “Hang on.  Here we go.  Storm Hex.”

 

Steve banged his forehead against the table with an audible thunk.

 

“Storm Hex?” Peggy asked, eyebrow arched.

 

“Golden boy here’s been on the team for more than a week.  He needs a name,” Tony said, motioning in Steve’s general direction.  

 

“He has a name,” Peggy said dryly.  “It’s Steve.”

 

“I hate to break it to ya,” Tony said, “but _Steve_ isn’t exactly going to strike fear into the hearts of villains.  Even the Algerians know that’s lame.  What’re we supposed to do when the Chitauri show up again and we’ve got _Steve_ to defend us?  We’ll be the laughing stock of the galaxy, Cap.”

 

“You were an Avenger in your world, yes?” Wanda asked Steve.  “What was your name there?”

 

Steve lifted his head and just looked at them for a long moment.  “Captain America.”

 

“No shit?” Tony asked.

 

Steve smiled tightly.

 

Tony canted his head to the side, looking at Peggy.  “Well, that’s interesting.  I really feel like you two neglected to let the rest of us know that little tidbit, _Cap_.”

 

“What could it possibly matter?” Peggy asked, frowning.

 

“Oh, it doesn’t,” Tony said, “but it’s sort of .... _masturbatory_ , don’t you think?  Captain America nailing Captain America?”  He looked over at Steve.  “He is actually an American though.  That was probably an easier sell than you.”

 

“One can assume he didn’t have to deflect quite as many advances from Howard either,” Peggy said tightly, giving Tony a nasty smile.  

 

Barton was typing on the tablet again.  “Claw Mask?”  He looked around the room, but no one was going for it.

 

“ _Mom_ ,” Tony whined, looking at Peggy.  “The golden retriever’s gotta have a name?  We can’t just call him dog.”

 

“Nomad?” Barton tried.

 

“Nomad,” Steve said, looking up, slapping his fist on the table.  “Let’s go with Nomad.”

 

Tony looked pleased.  “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?  The Chitauri will cower before Iron Man and his trusty sidekick, Nomad.”

 

Peggy wasn’t looking at Steve, but she could clearly imagine the frown.  He wasn’t exactly sidekick material.

 

“Why are we giving him name and uniform?” Wanda asked.  “You have me spending days trying to determine how to send him back where he came from.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Tony said dryly.  “It doesn’t seem like you’ve really come up with a damn thing on that front, now does it?  In the meantime, he might as well be a useful sidekick.”

 

Wanda gave him a sour look.  “No progress on sending him home.  But maybe progress on determining why he’s here in the first place.”

 

Peggy crossed her arms over her chest.  “What did you find?”

 

Vision gave Wanda a hard look.  “I think, perhaps, she overstated our discovery,” he said tightly.  “We have theories.  But we are not able to provide any hard evidence.”

 

“Yeah, well, theories are better than nothing,” Tony said, clapping his hands together.  “Let’s hear ‘em.”

 

Vision stood, waving a hand at the wall.  Dozens of multimedia files opened, each displaying something related to the Infinity Gems.  “There are certain artifacts which predate the universe itself.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said.  “The Infinity Gems.  We have ‘em too.”  He motioned to Vision’s head.  “They can create a lot of bad in the wrong hands.”

 

Vision turned and looked at him. “You do not actually have them.  Neither do we.”  He waved his hands and five large pictures appeared, representations of the five Infinity Gems.  “As Nomad already posited, we exist in a multi-verse.  Part of Wanda’s abilities rest in that fact.  She is able to leverage probability, to give someone a glimpse into iterations of the multi-verse, to see alternate versions of themselves and others.”

 

“God, not string theory again,” Tony groaned.  “It’s bullshit.  Mutant Romanian Stevie Nicks over there makes people hallucinate, nothing more.”

 

“I am Sokovian,” Wanda said tightly.

 

Vision ignored the byplay.  “Nomad’s presence here supports our theory.”

 

Steve frowned, and Peggy knew he was having a hard time with the whole Nomad thing.  Tony’s golden retriever joke probably hadn’t helped either.  She stepped closer to him, standing next to his chair as she watched Vision.

 

“We believe that the constructs we refer to as the Infinity Gems are nothing more than reflections of the actual elemental artifacts,” Vision explained.  “And each version of the multi-verse contains some version of those reflections.”

 

Tony shook his head, his frustration evident.  “So when this Strange guy poked the magic rock in Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood, he wasn’t poking the real thing, he was poking a reflection.”

 

Vision frowned.  “Close enough.”

 

Banner stood up, glasses in hand, gesturing.  “But Strange was trying to use the gems, or constructs, _whatever_ , to locate other gems, in the same iteration.  He wasn’t trying to bridge iterations.”

 

“Perhaps,” Vision said.  “I do not know what he was actually trying to accomplish.  But we have seen the results.”

 

“You think Strange used the gems from that world to what?  Create a bridge to our world?” Tony demanded.  “Do you have any idea how many laws of physics that violates?”  He sighed.  “And even if we go with the total woowoo theory, it still doesn’t make any sense.  Rogers said the whole team was there.  Why would it only pull him in?”

 

“Because,” Wanda said, “he was the only one who did not already exist here.  You found the records.  The iteration of him in this world died sixty years ago.  The multi-verse does not like paradoxes.  The others were not brought here because they already were here.  Each of us already occupies that space.”

 

“So, great,” Banner said dryly.  “We find the iteration of Strange, here, in our world, and we get him to send Rogers back.”

 

Peggy frowned.  “We found Dr. Strange,” she said tightly.  “He was a brilliant neurosurgeon, until a car wreck last year left him in a coma.  Whatever path Strange was meant to take, his got derailed.”

 

“Even if Strange had the same abilities here as he did in Rogers’ world, there is no guarantee we could send him home,” Wanda said, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Meaning what?” Peggy asked.

 

“We all sit here and debate, but none of you even _ask_ ,” Wanda said, clearly irritated.

 

“Ask what?” Tony demanded.

 

“If he _wants_ to go,” Wanda said, looking at Steve.

 

Everyone in the room turned to Steve.

 

“Of course he wants to go,” Tony said.  He frowned.  “Don’t you?  You wouldn’t shut up about it when you got here.”

 

Steve just sat there.  He looked up at Peggy.  She turned away, looking back to Wanda.

 

“I think maybe he didn’t just end up here,” Wanda said.  “I think maybe he was _pulled_.  The multi-verse cannot abide a paradox, but it requires balance.  And when balance is upset through unnatural acts, the multi-verse will find a way to correct it.”

 

Tony shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and irritation.  “So you think that we _pulled_ him here?  Because why?  Because he and Cap were guinea pigs together seventy years ago?  They were totally different people.  Iterations.  Whatever.  These two have known each other for like ten minutes.”

 

Peggy looked down at Steve.  He just looked up at her, but there was a tightness around his eyes and in his jaw.  Wanda’s question about whether or not he wanted to go home had found a mark.

 

“Oh my god,” Tony said, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on the table.  “I was kidding earlier about the Captain America nailing Captain America thing.  Are you two really ...” He gestured with his hand.

 

“We’re at a disadvantage without Strange,” Peggy said, looking at Wanda, completely ignoring Tony.  “Find out as much as you can about how he might have done whatever it is he did.”

 

Wanda nodded.  “We will.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Steve was standing in the middle of Ilya’s lab when Peggy walked in.  Ilya was making some final adjustments to the suit.  It was surprisingly close to the suit he usually wore, colors notwithstanding - it was comprised of shades of gray and black.

 

After the various revelations from Wanda and Vision, there had been a team meeting and a drawn out analysis of intel and timelines.  Afterward, Peggy and Tony had a closed door meeting, which Steve figured was probably about money, given the amount of yelling he could hear.

 

It all meant that Steve and Peggy hadn’t actually had a chance to talk since all of Wanda’s ruminations on the multi-verse.

 

“ _Nomad_?” Peggy asked, a small smile pulling at her lips.  

 

Steve shook his head, frowning.  “You missed some of the names they came up with at first.  I figured it was best to just bite the bullet and get it out of the way before they had time to get really creative.”

 

Peggy leaned back against one of the counters, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the fitting.  “I suppose it’s apropos,” she said quietly.  “Nomad.”

 

Steve shrugged.  Ilya handed him the helmet and Steve put it on, waiting as Ilya made minute adjustments.  Peggy pushed off from the counter and stepped in close.  She reached out and touched the edge of the helmet, where it brushed across his cheekbone.

 

“Too retro?” he asked.

 

“I like it,” she said, with a smile.  “It suits you.  Though I doubt it would suit anyone else.  You need a jaw of granite to wear it.”

 

Steve frowned.  “Is that a good thing?”

 

She raised an eyebrow.  “It is on you,” she said.

 

Steve turned to Ilya.  “We done here?”

 

Ilya was only partially paying attention and he nodded, waving them off.

 

Steve removed the helmet and walked out of the lab with Peggy at his side.  “Sorry,” he said quietly, “about that back there with the team.  I should have said something.”

 

“Like what?” she asked, eyebrow raised.  “Denied our relationship?  It wouldn’t accomplish anything.  And nobody would have believed you anyway.  I hadn’t planned on making any announcements about my personal life, but it wasn’t a secret.”

 

“I just don’t want to create any more conflicts for you than I already do,” he said quietly.

 

She looked at him.  “Steve, the team had conflicts long before you arrived.  Don’t give yourself too much credit.  I suspect Tony would say I’m easier to get along with these days.”

 

Steve frowned, having a very good idea of _exactly_ how Tony would phrase that.

 

“What about you?” she asked.  “It’s not just me they’re ribbing.  You don’t mind them speculating about you?”

 

He laughed.  “Actually, it’s kind of novel that none of them think it’s weird we’re together.  They just assume we’re two adults with private lives.”

 

She frowned at him.  “Why do you say that?”

 

He sighed.  “Let’s just say at home, I don’t exactly have a reputation as a ladies’ man.  If the roles were reversed, I’d never hear the end of it.”

 

She watched him, her lips quirking into a small smile.  “They think you’re too righteous to enjoy sex?”

 

“I think there’s a good possibility that they don’t think I even know about sex,” he said dryly.  “Natasha once asked me if my most recent kiss was in 1945.”

 

“Was it?”

 

“That’s not the point,” he said sourly.

 

She laughed, but not unkindly.  She pushed him into an alcove and kissed him.  She held him close.  “I would never wish for you to be lonely,” she said.  “But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad that I’m the only one who knows you like this.”  She looked up into his eyes.  “I don’t want to share you.  With anyone.”

 

He smiled down at her.  “You don’t have any worries on that front,” he said.  “I’m all yours.”

 

They walked to the locker room, which, sadly, was not empty.  Peggy helped him extricate himself from the top half of his new super suit.  The modern suits were works of art, to be certain.  But he did occasionally long for the simplicity of his war uniform.  At least then he could get dressed and undressed by himself.  He was going to need Ilya to move some of the closures to where he could actually reach them by himself.

 

He shrugged into a t-shirt, leaving the bottom half of his suit on.  It was nothing more than high tech fatigue pants and boots.  The real engineering was in the top half, where the various shock absorbers, shield hardware and comm logic went.

 

He and Peggy walked outside and Peggy headed off across the grass.  Steve kept pace at her side.  She looked over at him and held out her hand.  He took it with a smile and they simply walked for a long time, hand in hand.

 

“Do you want to go home?” she asked, not looking at him.

 

Steve held her hand tighter.  “I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

 

She looked at him.  “That’s not really an answer.”

 

He shrugged.  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Wanda said.  About balancing unnatural acts.  What if that’s true?”

 

Peggy sighed.  “I don’t subscribe to any theory where the multi-verse gives a damn about my love life,” she said.  She looked at him.  “But I’m happy that you’re here.  I certainly feel more balanced.  Grateful.”

 

“I should have died in that crash,” he said, shaking his head, looking away.  “But I didn’t.  And I don’t have any answer for why.  For the last couple of years, I’ve felt like I was stuck in purgatory.  I have obligations back home,” he said.  “But I don’t _want_ to go.  I don’t want to leave you.  This is the first time I’ve felt like I fit anywhere in a long time.”

 

Slowly, they ascended a small hill, stopping at the top.  It wasn’t completely dark yet, but the moon was visible above the trees, along with Venus and some very faint stars.  She leaned against him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

 

“There’s a war coming,” she said.  “From out there.  You already know that.”

 

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “It all started with Schmidt and that damn cube and now there’s no getting away from it.”

 

She took a deep breath.  “How many people will die this time?” she asked.  “Last time we got lucky.  We’re going to run out of luck eventually.”  She looked up at him.  “You really want to go through that?”

 

He looked at her.  “With you?”  He sighed.  “I’ve died in worse ways.”

 

She gave him a tight smile and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder.  “Me too.”

 

END CHAPTER


	9. Chapter 9

Several days after he’d been christened Nomad, Steve was breathing hard, standing next to Tony as they surveyed the carnage spread out across the arid landscape.  In the handful of missions he’d been on with the team, this was the first time Banner participated.  Steve had to admit, he was curious to see if Banner had the same abilities in this world.  He hadn’t thought it possible, but this Banner seemed even quieter, more withdrawn, than the man Steve knew back home.  

 

But judging from the damage, the Hulk did not suffer the same restraint.  The beast was pacing around what remained of the town square, occasionally bellowing and beating his chest.  He’d taken out the entire armed contingency pretty much single handed.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Peggy approach.  She walked past him and Tony, heading toward Banner.  Steve went to follow, but Tony stuck his hand out, stopping him.  Steve looked at him and Tony shook his head, pulling him back.

 

As Steve watched, Peggy removed her helmet and gloves, climbing on top of a rubble pile, waiting for the Hulk to turn.  He did.  He watched her for a moment and then lunged at her, bellowing.  Tony’s gloved hand bit into Steve’s upper arm, hydraulics straining to hold him in place.

 

Peggy held her ground, watching the Hulk.  Slowly, she held up her hand.  The Hulk watched, breathing hard.  Slowly, he stepped closer, mirroring her movements, copying as she turned her hand over, resting his gigantic hand in her palm.  Peggy reached out to him, touching the tips of her finger to the inside of his forearm, skimming along his wrist and palm back to his fingertips.  The Hulk shook his head, snorting as he turned and stumbled away, slowly melting back into Banner.

 

Peggy watched him for a moment and then turned, barking orders over the comm.

 

* * *

 

 

“You coulda mentioned you were Banner’s lullabye,” Steve said.  He was sitting on the floor of the bedroom.  At some point in the last week and a half, it had ceased to be _her_ bedroom and was simply _their_ bedroom.  He was leaning back against the wall, watching as she unloaded a duffle bag.

 

She looked at him for a moment and then back to the bag, tossing clothing onto the floor.  “Who is his lullabye in your world?” she asked.

 

Steve sighed.  “Natasha.”

 

Peggy frowned, nodding.  “Risky.”

 

“Maybe,” Steve said.  “He did take off after our last mission.  We hadn’t found him again yet when I  ... “  He trailed off.

 

“He was trying to save her,” Peggy said.  “From himself.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

Steve nodded.  “I think so, yeah.  She was pretty upset about it.”

 

“Bruce doesn’t need to protect me,” Peggy said blandly.  

 

Steve looked at her for a long time.  He understood the sentiment.  While Natasha didn’t tend to inspire a whole lot of overprotective feelings from the team, Peggy certainly didn’t inspire any.  Not if people valued their lives.  Steve was sure everyone knew that if they so much as insinuated that Peggy wasn’t capable of taking care of any situation, she would kick their asses but good.  

 

He sighed.  “Banner may not need to protect you physically.  But he cares, doesn’t he?  He watches you.  The Hulk watches you.”

 

She shrugged.  “We’ve never discussed it.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said knowingly.  “Peggy and I never discussed it either.”

 

She looked at him, pensive.  “What do you think was happening before you arrived?” she asked calmly.  “That Bruce and I were just waiting for the right moment?”  She sighed, sounding more tired than frustrated.  “The war will never be over, Steve.  There is no world ... _after_.  There’s only today.  And the fight.  And those connections that you make in spite of knowing it might all be gone tomorrow.”  She looked at him, holding his gaze.  “Because you can’t not.”

 

He looked up at her, humbled.  He couldn’t deny the truth in her words.  He threw away a lifetime with Peggy, thinking that there would always be tomorrow.  But tomorrow never came and his fight never ended.  And he was certain he’d thrown away his only shot at happiness.

 

It was a hard way to learn that he was willing to risk everything to be here now, with her.

 

But there was also more to this situation than the type of bond he shared with Peggy, there was an issue of basic survival.  Basic human companionship and care.

 

“Banner follows you,” Steve said quietly.  “He  trusts you.  You guys have a connection, otherwise the lullabye wouldn’t work.”

 

She walked over to him and sat down next to him, back against the wall.  She turned toward him and he turned toward her.  There was a cut bisecting his bottom lip and she touched it gently with her thumb.

 

Pursing her lips together, she looked at him.  “Bruce and I respect each other.  We share a certain ... _loneliness_.  I don’t think the others can really appreciate that.  But I wasn’t willing to take a gamble on him six months ago, and that’s not going to change.  He has his demons.  I have mine.”

 

He watched her for a long time.  “Where do I fit into that equation?”

 

She looked at him.  “You _are_ my demon.”

 

He knew exactly what she meant.  It wasn’t the most flattering comparison, but he understood.  “And what happens if it isn’t like Wanda says?  What happens if I just wake up one morning and I’m back home?”

 

She looked away.  “I don’t know,” she said.

 

“I just ...” he started.  “Maybe - “

 

She looked at him.  “If this is going to be some version of how I should hedge my bets with Bruce, I swear to God, Steve Rogers, I will end you right now and get a jumpstart on the heartache.  And I still won’t date Bruce.”

 

He frowned, pulling her close.  “I am not trying to push you away,” he said in a near whisper.  “I don’t want to leave.  I don’t intend to leave.  But I don’t even know how I got here.  I don’t know that I will have any choice in the matter.  I need to know that if I do go, you will be okay.”

 

She laughed mirthlessly.  “There is absolutely no way I can lose you again and be okay.”

 

“ _Peggy_ ,” he said, his hands fisting in the material of her shirt.

 

She rested against him, shaking her head.  “Are you going to lie to me and tell me that you would be okay?” she asked.  She studied his face.  “I know Tony made a joke about how we barely know each other.  And he had a point.  But this already feels ... like _home_.  We go to sleep together, we wake up together.  Any time I reach for you, you’re there.  And it feels so right.  If that is just gone tomorrow ...”  She looked away, blinking quickly.  

 

“I’ll soldier on,” she said quietly, firmly.  “I’ll put one foot in front of the other and I will do my job.  But I will be dead inside.  Bruce Banner isn’t going to change that.”

 

Steve sighed, smacking his head back into the wall, knowing the truth in her words.

 

“Can we not do this?” she asked.  “We have no idea how much time we have.  Let’s not spend it trying to do proactive damage control.  If something happens to you, it will kill me.  That’s just how it is.  You can’t fix that.”

 

He pulled her close, kissing her and she melted against him.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was stretched out on the couch, book in hand, reading.  They’d gone for a particularly grueling run and Peggy kicked his ass as usual.  He longed for Sam in that moment.  Not because he wanted an audience when he was being left in the dust.  He’d had plenty of those moments in his life already.  But he knew Sam would take particular joy in it that no one else could really appreciate.  He was aware that it was the first time he’d longed for anything from home since they first saw this world’s Captain America.

 

He looked up as Peggy walked into the room.  She had let her hair air dry after the shower and it curled in soft waves around her face.  She was wearing a simple gray dress that looked like it was made out of t-shirt material.  He watched her.  He wasn’t sure he’d seen Peggy in a dress.  Not in this timeline.  She preferred workout clothes or tactical gear.  But she looked nice, soft, _his_. She was barefoot and the dress was short, framing her long, toned legs perfectly.

 

Steve folded his arm behind his head, as he closed the book.  She had a record player in the corner and he watched as she slid an album out of its cover and carefully placed it on the turntable and lowered the needle.  He listened as the music started.  He recognized the strands.  Billie Holiday.  

 

Peggy turned and pulled him to his feet.  He smiled down at her.  “What are you doing?”

 

“We’re dancing,” she said brightly, smiling up at him.  “I’ve spent too long waiting for the right partner.”

 

He pulled her close, but frowned down at her.  “I don’t know how to dance.”

  
She gave him a soft smile, wrapping her arms around his neck.  “Of course you do,” she whispered with a knowing grin.  “Everything we do together is dancing.”


	10. Chapter 10

“So,” Natasha said, looking over at Steve, “why am I here?  You’re the one who knows this guy.”

 

“I know him in _my_ world,” Steve said, for what he felt was the thousandth time.  He was pretty sure Natasha was just busting his chops, trying to see how far she could push.  “This Sam Wilson doesn’t have a clue who I am.”

 

“Still not answering my question, Rogers,” she said, eyebrow arched.  “Hill gave you the go-ahead.  You don’t need me.”  

 

Steve and Natasha had flown down to D.C. from the Avengers facility that morning.  Wanda, Peggy and Barton were somewhere in South Africa, trying to track down part of Klaue’s vibranium smuggling pipeline.  Tony was in L.A. with Pepper at some charity event.  Rhodey was in San Francisco.  Everyone else was wrapped up in projects back in New York.

 

Steve looked over at Natasha.  “He likes you.  He _will_ like you.”

 

She frowned at him, but seemed intrigued, or at the very least, amused.  “You don’t know that.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Steve said firmly.

 

“How?”

 

He looked over at her again, frowning. “I have complete faith in your ability to be appealing if you want to.  Also, you’re a highly visible member of the team.  You’ll give me some legitimacy.  Nomad’s not exactly a household name.”

 

Natasha rolled her eyes, but had the decency not to argue with his logic.  “You were mentioned the other day,” she said.  “After the scuffle in Belize.”

 

“Yeah,” he said dryly.  “ _New, unnamed team member_ , will definitely impress.”  He looked at Natasha, giving her his best smile.  “Come on.  He’s a good guy.  You’ll like him.”

 

She stared at the front of the building.  “The VA, eh?”

 

“He did two tours in Afghanistan,” Steve said.  “Pararescue.”

 

“Yeah, I read the file,” she said, following him inside.  “Khalid Khandil mission.  On paper, he’s our guy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam laughed, staring at them like they were crazy.  “The Avengers.  Like, the _Avengers_?”

 

“Pretty much,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair.  They were sitting at an outdoor cafe a couple blocks from the National Mall.

 

Sam shook his head.  “You guys know I work at the VA, right?  I’m not active duty.”

 

“We know,” Steve said.  “But we did some research.  We think you have a skillset that could come in handy.”

 

“Hey,” he said, “I’m happy to help.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve stared at the display of the Howling Commando uniforms.  It was surreal.  The entire exhibit was so similar to the one he’d seen, with the glaring difference that everywhere his face should have been, it was Peggy’s.  Not that he was complaining.  He’d rather look at her face.

 

He stopped in front of the display about Bucky.  The text was different, talking about a bond between Barnes and Captain America, forged by her daring rescue of him from a Hydra base.  No more childhood friends.  And Bucky’s date of death wasn’t listed at all.  Apparently they hadn’t updated it yet to reflect that fact that he had passed away recently.  That left Steve feeling unexpectedly hollow.

 

He walked through the entire display, stopping in the small theater.  There were extensive interviews with Colonel Phillips, and then with Bucky.  He was older, heavier, hair graying at the temples.  Then, at the very end, was _him_.  Well, not him.  Skinny Steve, older, but not old.  Mid thirties, probably, speaking earnestly about Captain America’s sacrifice.  

 

Steve couldn’t watch, he had to get up and leave.

 

Outside, he picked up the phone.  It took several rings.  “ _Hey_ ,” he said.  “I just needed to talk to you.”

 

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, her concern evident.

 

He frowned.  “Yeah,” he said, trying to make light.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I just ... wanted to hear your voice.”

 

“Steve?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.  “It’s nothing.  I’ll see you when you get back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Sam looked around as Steve led him to the waiting area outside Hill’s office.  There was already someone there, sitting cross legged on the floor, filling out paperwork on the coffee table.  

 

“Guess business is booming,” Sam said, “you guys having a job fair or something?”

 

Steve smiled.  “More like strategic recruiting.  Sam Wilson, this is Scott Lang.  He’s new too.”

 

Lang stood up quickly, dusting himself off.  He was anxious, bouncy, excited as usual.  He held out his hand.  “Good to meet you, Sam.”

 

“Likewise,” Sam said, assessing Lang as he shook his hand.  “I was with the 58th Pararescue.  Two tours in Afghanistan.  Codename Falcon.  What’s your background?”

 

Lang raised his eyebrows, smiling tightly.  “Mechanical engineer,” he said.  “Did three years in San Quentin for burglary.  These days I’m Ant-Man.”

 

Sam nodded slowly, eyes narrowed.

 

“I know,” Lang said.  “I didn’t pick the name.”

 

Steve clapped Sam on the shoulder.  “We’re a diverse group.”

 

* * *

 

Steve was showing Sam and Scott around the facility when the Quinjet landed and taxid to a stop.  The three stood on the tarmac, watching as Peggy, Wanda and Barton exited.

 

“Oh my god,” Scott whispered.  “Is that Captain America?  And Scarlet Witch and Hawkeye?”

 

“It is,” Steve said, smiling.  He walked toward the Quinjet, with Sam and Scott following.  “How’d it go?” he asked.

 

Barton shook his head, frowning.  “Talk to Cap.”

 

Peggy jumped down to the tarmac.  She’d removed the top of her suit, leaving her in nothing but a sleek black tanktop and her dark blue fatigue pants.  Her hands were wrapped, like a boxer’s.  

 

“Oh my God,” Scott whispered again.  Steve felt the same way.  She was a breathtaking sight.

 

Peggy turned toward them.  “New recruits?” she asked, unwinding the tape from her knuckles.

 

“Sam Wilson, aka Falcon and Scott Lang, aka Ant-Man,” Steve said.

 

Peggy raised her eyebrows.

 

“I didn’t pick the name,” Scott assured her.  “I inherited it.”

 

She nodded.  “From Hank Pym, right?”

 

Scott nodded.  Peggy reached out and shook his hand.

 

She turned to Sam.  “Wilson,” she said, shaking his hand.  “I read your file.  Impressive work.  I’m honored that you’d walk back into this life to help us out.”

 

Sam nodded, clearly trying to play it cool.  “Captain America needs my help,” he said.  ”There’s no better reason to get back in the game.”

 

Peggy turned to Scott and smiled tightly.  “I read your file too.”

 

“I can explain,” he started.

 

She shook her head, smiling.  “It’s okay,” she said.  “Just be aware that Hank had a long running feud with Howard Stark.  You might want to watch yourself around Tony for a while.”

 

“Is he here?” Scott asked, obviously more starstruck with the idea of meeting Iron Man than concerned about his own welfare.

 

Peggy shook her head and turned back to Steve.  She watched him for a long moment.  “You have a second?” she asked, nodding toward the Quinjet.

 

“Sure,” he said.  He turned to Sam and Scott.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

He followed her onto the jet.  As soon as they were inside, out of view of prying eyes, she turned to him, frowning.  She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips that he returned with a sigh.  Eventually, she pulled back, running her hand over his chest. “You okay?  You seemed ... upset, the other day.”

 

He frowned, trying to play it down.  “It was just .... “ He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair.  “I went to the Smithsonian exhibit when Natasha and I were in DC scouting Sam.”  He took a deep breath.  “It was ... strange.”

 

She nodded, frowning.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I can’t really imagine what that must have been like.”

 

He shook his head, looking away.  “It’s nothing,” he said.  “A moment.  I’m fine.”

 

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded.  “Okay.”

 

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and turned, exiting the jet.

 

Scott frowned, as Steve approached.  “I thought you were new too.”

 

Steve frowned.  “Eh ... yes and no.”  He gestured with his hand, trying to think of some explanation.  “I’ve known her for a long time.”

 

“She was frozen for seventy years,” Scott said, eyebrow arched.

 

“It’s a long story,” Steve said.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was laying on the bed on his stomach, sketching in his notebook.  Peggy was next to him on her back.  She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair, causing his eyes to flutter shut as he leaned into her touch.  He looked over at her and tossed the pencil and notebook away, scooting himself against her side, looking down at her.

 

She pressed her palm to the side of his face, studying his features.  “You’re homesick.”

 

He shrugged, frowning.  “That’s not it,” he said quietly.  “It’s like ... when I first woke up maybe.  You know, things are ... familiar.  But then at the strangest moments, they feel so alien.”

 

She raised her eyebrows, giving him a lopsided grin.  “Yeah, I do know a little about what that’s like.”

 

He laughed, pulling her close.  “I take it back.  It’s not the same as being defrosted.  Not at all.”

 

She looked at him, her features soft.  “Why not?”

 

He smiled down at her, his hand splayed across her taut stomach.  “Because of you,” he said.  “When I first woke up, I was so lost.”  He looked away, shaking his head.  “I don’t feel lost now.  I just feel a little sad sometimes.”

 

She pulled him down, kissing him slowly.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you,” she said.

 

He shrugged, feeling ridiculous.  “It was fine,” he said.  “Really.”

 

She shook her head, obviously unconvinced.  “It’s okay, you know,” she said.

 

He frowned at her.

 

“Everything doesn’t have to be okay all of time,” she said.  “That’s not how life works.”  She sighed.  “I know you don’t like to lean on people, but you’re not a burden.  I’m pretty sure it is actually in my job description to care about you at this point.”

 

He groaned, scooting down the bed.  He rested his head against her stomach, closing his eyes as she toyed with his hair.

 

“I love you,” she said quietly.

 

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight.

  
  
  
END CHAPTER


	11. Chapter 11

Sam and Steve stood at the edge of the mat, watching as Natasha and Scott circled each other.  Scott, as usual, was talking non-stop.  Something about girls who fought dirty and punched a guy in the face when he was just trying to be a good sport.  Steve was pretty sure Natasha wasn’t even listening to him.  In her defense, a lot of people who talked to Scott had that response.  He was a lot to take.

 

Steve knew that Scott would have to calm down eventually.  Steve kept waiting for it to happen and so far had been disappointed.  It had been a week and a half and Scott still practically swooned every time he saw one of the original Avengers.  It made Steve think of Coulson, which was a very loaded topic for Steve.  In this world, Phil Coulson was alive.  Fury had saved him with something called the TAHITI protocol.  Steve hadn’t asked a lot of questions.  He didn’t really want to know.  Steve knew what it was like to come back from the dead.  He wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.

 

Phil was still Phil, though.  He proudly showed Steve his set of vintage Captain America training cards.  Peggy’s likeness smeared with Phil’s dried blood.  Steve guessed they probably had decreased in value, but Phil still seemed quite proud.

 

As Steve watched, Scott made a stupid lunge and Natasha didn’t hold back.  She flipped him, pinning him in a leglock to the mat.

 

Several minutes later, Scott limped to the sideline, grimacing at Steve.  “You’re up,” he said.

 

“Nah,” Steve said, shaking his head.

 

Scott and Sam both looked at him.

 

“Oh, no,” Natasha said.  “Rogers already has a sparring partner and it’s not me.”

 

“Who the hell is your sparring partner?” Sam asked, looking at Steve, slightly offended.

 

“Me.”

 

They all turned to see Peggy standing just inside the door.  She was toeing out of her shoes.

 

“On that note,” Natasha said, “I’m out, fellas.”  She walked past Peggy, giving her a wink.  “I’ll let Barton know the show’s about to start.”

 

Scott looked over at Steve.  “You spar with Cap?”

 

“I do today from the looks of it,” Steve said evasively, removing his shoes and walking out onto the mat.  He hadn’t sparred with Peggy since that first time.  He occasionally sparred with Scott and Sam, though it was never a workout for Steve.  He wasn’t sure they realized that though.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Scott asked, taking a seat on the floor, leaning back against the wall as he took a drink of water from his water bottle.  

 

“Nope,” Steve replied.

 

He and Peggy circled each other and Steve couldn’t help the thrill of anticipation that tingled down his spine.  Peggy just watched him, a small smile playing at her lips.  She’d been really busy lately.  Between her schedule and his work getting Sam and Scott up to speed, they hadn’t seen a whole lot of each other.

 

“Are you going to hurt him?” Scott yelled to Peggy.

 

She smirked.  “That’s up to him,” she assured Scott.

 

Scott looked over at Sam.  “What does that mean?”

 

Sam shook his head.  “Hell if I know.  Shut up.”

 

“Kick his ass, Cap!” Barton yelled from the overhead walkway.

 

Peggy looked up and sighed.  “Well, the peanut gallery is in full force,” she said.  “I suppose we might as well give them a show.”

 

Steve shrugged.  “Might as well.”

 

She lunged at him first and he blocked, managing to spin her away, but she was right back, sweeping his leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the mat.  He rolled away before she could land a kick, catching her heel as he went and pulling her off balance.

 

After that, it was just like Peggy had said the other night.  A dance.  One leading, the other following, back and forth, lunge and parry.  On and on.  Steve could have done without the constant background noise.  Tony had ventured in, taking a spot next to Barton on the walkway and the two had a running color commentary, often supplemented by Scott.

 

Their sparring was less raw, less visceral than their previous match.  They pushed each other, but it wasn’t a fight for dominance.  They were toying with each other, playing.  But they were both still super soldiers.  It was one hell of a fight.

 

Steve hit the mat hard and bounded up, twisting around.  Peggy had expected him to continue forward and aimed a kick that should have caught him in the lower back, but instead hit him square in the jaw.

 

“Oh shit,” Peggy cursed as Steve crumpled to the mat, tasting blood.

 

“Get up, ya weenie,” Barton yelled at Steve.

 

Steve sat on the mat, grimacing, touching gingerly at his lip.  Peggy crouched down next to him.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

 

He smiled wryly at her.  “I’ll be fine.”

 

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

“There’s no kissing in baseball,” Barton yelled from the walkway.

 

“She has no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony said, shaking his head.

 

“I saw that movie,” Peggy snapped, standing up, frowning at Barton and Tony.  “And this isn’t baseball.  Get lost.”  She reached down and offered Steve a hand up, pulling him to his feet.  She held his hand a little longer than was necessary, giving him a squeeze.

 

She finally turned toward Scott and Sam.  “Fellas,” she said.  She slipped on her shoes and left.

 

Sam and Scott just watched Steve suspiciously.

 

“Known her a long time, eh?” Sam asked with a laugh.

 

* * *

 

“You were out late,” Steve said when Peggy entered the apartment near midnight.  She looked tired, stressed.

 

“Thor’s here,” she said darkly.  She shook her head.  “We’ve got trouble.”

 

Steve stood up from where he’d been sitting on the couch and crossed the room to her.  “What’s going on?”

 

“Loki’s not dead, for starters,” Peggy said grimly.  “He’s apparently been posing as Odin for ... Jesus, no one even knows.  Probably since Thor let him out of that damn vault a couple of years ago.”

 

Steve frowned.  “So a deranged demigod has been in charge of Asgard for years?”

 

Peggy nodded.  “Yeah.  While Thor’s been away, trying to restore peace to the realms.”

 

“How bad is it?” Steve asked.

 

Peggy dragged a hand through her hair, frowning.  “We don’t know,” she said.  “But combined with the things Thor saw when Wanda attacked him ...”  She grimaced.

 

“More to do with the Infinity Gems?”

 

Peggy nodded.  “Thor thinks Loki knows where the missing gem is.  Or already has it, even.  Maybe.  It’s a whole lot of guessing.”

 

“And if he’s been posing as Odin, then he already has access to two others.”

 

Peggy nodded wearily.  “Yeah.  Three of the five gems in the hands of a demigod who decided to enslave our planet as a grudge against his brother.”

 

“Does Thor know where Loki is?” Steve asked.

 

Peggy shook her head.  “He’s in the wind.”

 

“So what’s the next move?” Steve asked.  It was very strange to not be part of the Avenger’s inner circle, but he understood.  Even if he didn’t like it.

 

“Not sure yet,” Peggy said.  “We have to figure out how to get ahead of this thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Thor?” Scott said, eyes wide.  “I knew it when I saw the grass this morning.”

 

Steve walked into the briefing room, flanked by Scott and Sam.  They all found chairs along the edge of the room and sat, waiting.  Peggy was at the table, along with Natasha and Thor.  It was all hands on deck and before long, everyone on the team was crowded into the room, plus Fury, Hill and Coulson.  And Eric Selvig, who looked particularly twitchy.  Steve assumed he was less than thrilled about the news of Loki’s return.

 

Hill led the briefing, just restating everything that Peggy had told Steve the previous night.  Loki had two of the Infinity Gems, with a possible lead on a third.  No one knew where he was, but finding him was the highest priority.  Luckily, according to Hill, the team was large enough now that Cap, Tony, Barton, Banner and Natasha could go with Thor to Asgard, and possibly beyond, while everyone else stayed behind to keep an eye on Earth.

 

Steve wondered when that decision had been made.  Had Peggy known last night that she might be going to Asgard?  Following the announcement was a lot of dry, logistics planning.  Steve did his best to stay awake.

 

As soon as the meeting was over, Peggy immediately rounded on him and nodded to the door.  He followed her out into the hall and then around the corner into one of the design labs.  “Did you know last night?” he asked, frowning, as soon as the door swung shut.

 

“You knew this was the probable next step,” she said calmly.  “We have to find Loki and he’s not hiding on Earth.  We have to look for him out there.”

 

“Thor can look for him out there,” Steve replied tightly, knowing he was being unreasonable and irritated with himself for it.

 

She shook her head at him, stepping closer.  “It’s the job, Steve,” she said quietly.  “You know that.”

 

He looked away.  He did know.  That was the biggest irritation of the whole thing.  He _knew_.  And yes, if he’d thought about it, he would have realized last night that she would be going with Thor.  It made perfect sense. But the idea of it had him tied up in knots.  He finally nodded.  “I know,” he said quietly.

 

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.  They stood there for a long moment.  Then she kissed him and turned, leaving.  

 

Within the hour, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Are you ready for our dance?”_

 

_“The war’s over, Steve.  We can go home.  Imagine it.”_

 

Steve sat bolt upright, breathing hard.  He blinked quickly.  The blinds were open and morning sun was pouring in.  He looked around the room.  His room.  The room he shared with Peggy.  He looked at her pillow, grabbed it, pulling it close.  It smelled like her, which instantly soothed some of his panic.  That, at least, wasn’t a dream.

 

He shook his head, tossing the pillow away as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.  He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.  What the hell?  He hadn’t had nightmares like this since they first defrosted him.  So vivid.  Like he was back in Wanda’s nightmare.

 

A vision of Peggy.  Like the Peggy he’d known in the war.  Not a soldier.  The Peggy he’d never held.  Never loved.  Her dress had been blue.  And she disappeared like a whiff of smoke, leaving him alone in an empty dancehall.

 

Taking a deep breath, Steve thought back to what he’d said to Tony once everything had finally calmed down after Ultron. _Family, stability ... the guy who wanted all that went into the ice seventy-five years ago.  I think someone else came out._

 

He meant it.  

 

At the time.  

 

Steve had been so thrown by Wanda’s vision, so shaken by Ultron’s certainty that Captain America, God’s righteous man, couldn’t exist without a war.  He saw the life Barton had, a wife, children.  He felt cheated by the universe.  He could be a good man.  And he could damn near be the perfect soldier.  But somehow, he became less human in the process.

 

 _Home is home_ , that’s what Sam told him.  Another Sam.  In another world, another life.  And even then, Steve hadn’t known where home was.  He thought he found it, for a little while, at the Avengers facility, training the new recruits.  But now he was pretty sure that had been something the pass the time, while his life passed him by.

 

Bucky, _his_ Bucky was out there somewhere.  Lost.  Steve abandoned him, just like he abandoned the rest of the team.  

 

He frowned to himself.   _No_.  He hadn’t exactly abandoned them.  He hadn’t asked to be pulled into this world.  And as far as he knew, he didn’t have any way to get home.  

 

But he hadn’t looked for a way home either.  

 

He didn’t want to go home, to that world where everyone expected him to literally be more than human.  The world where everyone knew him.  And no one knew him.

 

Here, there was no persona to get in the way.  No preconceived notion of who and what he was.  He could meet Peggy as an equal, a partner.  For as similar as their histories were, she had some knack he didn’t.  She could be Captain America without getting overwhelmed by it the way he did.  But she knew what it was like to live his life, to wrestle with the same demons.  She knew the loneliness and pain and loss as acutely as he did.  And she loved him as much as he loved her.

 

In this world, Steve could do his job, and do it exceptionally well.  But he had the anonymity that allowed him to simply be a man.

 

The problem was, he wasn’t sure he could just be a man.  

 

Especially if it meant abandoning his old life and his responsibilities.

 

* * *

 

Steve removed the last of the gear from the Quinjet.  All in all, it wasn’t a bad mission.  Scott turned out to be shockingly useful in a fight.  Sam was solid as usual, as was Rhodey.  Vision was ... Vision.  He was a lot like Thor, you just gave him his space and stayed out of the way as best you could.

 

They’d taken care of the mercs without much of an issue, but it was clear that the team was going to need a lot more practice before they were a cohesive force.  When Steve joined the regular team, he’d already known what to expect from each of them.  He slotted in where he could.  This new team was something entirely different.  They were going to have to build rapport from the ground up.  There was no shortcut.  It would take time. Luckily, he seemed to have that, if little else.

 

He set the crate in the corner and looked up at Wanda.  She was standing several meters away, watching him.  Steve had left her behind.  She was powerful, there was no denying that, but she was too unpredictable for Steve’s taste.  And with the main Avengers team off world, he was in charge of what happened back home.  Mostly in charge.  If you didn’t ask Hill about it.  She probably had a different take on who was the leader.

 

“You were successful, yes,” Wanda said.

 

Steve arched an eyebrow, but didn’t actually look at her.  “You reading my mind again?”

 

She sighed in irritation.  “I have never actually read your mind, Nomad,” she said.  “Not in this world.  Probably not in your world either.”

 

He looked up at her.  He had no idea if she was telling the truth or not. He didn’t have a good handle on how her powers worked, especially in this world.  He had no idea if she could do anything to him without him knowing it.  He suspected the answer was yes.  And he didn’t trust her to be truthful about it.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.

 

He took a deep breath.  Of all the Avengers, aside from Peggy, Steve felt the most kinship with Wanda.  He felt like he understood what had motivated her to allow herself to be subjected to Strucker’s experiments.  He knew what it was to watch the people he loved die in war.  He knew what it was to be completely powerless.  He knew why she did it.

 

But he wasn’t sure he trusted her at all.

 

Wanda’s powers weren’t something he could quantify.  Wanda wasn’t just stronger than normal.  She was something more than human.  She had powers which Steve was fairly certain humans weren’t meant to possess.  And she had already proven that, like Banner, her powers were intimately tied to her emotional state.  Meaning that if her emotions got away from her, her powers could as well.  And if her powers got away from her, there wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do about it.  Steve couldn’t take that risk.  Not in the field.  Not right now.

 

“The mission was a success,” Steve said.  “We need to work out a few kinks, but it was a solid performance.”

 

Wanda nodded and stepped closer, watching him.  He didn’t like the way she watched him.  It was like she was looking through him, rather than at him.

 

“You get bored?” he asked pointedly.

 

She frowned and shrugged.  

 

There was a noise and Steve turned to see Vision enter the room.  He just stood there, watching silently.  He did that a lot.  Steve tried not to take it personally.

 

“You are ...” Wanda started and then stopped, narrowing her eyes at him.  She held her hand out, indicating the space around her heart, “ _unsettled_.”

 

Steve snorted.  “I got pulled into this dimension.  I don’t know how or why.  So, yeah,” he said flatly.  “I’m unsettled.”

 

She frowned at him.  “It is all becoming real,” she said.  

 

He looked at her.

 

“When you first arrived, you were lost, afraid.  But then you found her.  And for a while, she was enough.  The fact that she even existed, was enough.”  Wanda sighed.  “But now, you are coming to know that you are stuck here.  And more importantly, if you are _here_ , then you are not _there_.”

 

“Look,” Steve said shortly, “I know what I left behind.  I don’t need you to tell me.”

 

“I am telling you nothing,” she said lightly.  “Only what I see with my eyes and my heart.  Not,” she qualified, “with my gifts.”

 

She canted her head to the side, squinting at him.  “What did she show you? The Wanda you know from your world?  When she looked into your fears, what was there?”

 

“Rats,” Steve said blandly.  “Can’t stand ‘em.”  He finished with the crate and turned on his heel, leaving Wanda and Vision alone.

  
END CHAPTER


	12. Chapter 12

“They’re back,” Scott yelled before sprinting toward the door.  Steve dropped what he was doing and jogged outside, shielding his eyes against the late afternoon sun.  The grass was still smoking from the Bifrost.  Thor and another Asgardian, Sif, if Steve was remembering the file correctly, held Loki between them.  Loki looked like he’d seen better days - even for Loki, which was saying something.  Steve thought Loki always tended to look like he’d crawled out from under a rock.  They dragged him toward the facility doors.  Peggy and Tony followed closely.  Natasha, Banner and Barton peeled off and headed toward the team quarters.

 

Steve waited, doing his best to ignore Scott and his never ending commentary.  Steve knew they were locking Loki up in the Hulk’s cell.  It didn’t take long before the Avengers re-emerged.  Thor and Sif were discussing something but Peggy and Tony followed several paces behind, in silence, looking completely exhausted.

 

“Let’s say we take the night off and regroup tomorrow,” Tony said.  Without bothering to see if anyone was in agreement, he headed for his quarters.

 

Peggy made eye contact with Steve as she headed for the apartment. He fell into step with her, following her.  Scott, mercifully, stayed where he was.  Peggy was silent the entire time and Steve didn’t push.  She looked pretty beat up, which was bothersome considering she healed as quickly as he did.  

 

Once inside the apartment, she walked into the bedroom, tossing her helmet into the corner.  She tried to shimmy out of the top half of her suit.  Steve stepped in and helped, quickly extricating her.  She and sat down heavily on the bed, pulling the hair tie out of her hair.  For a long moment, she just sat there.  Finally, she leaned forward, undoing the buckles on her boots.  Again, Steve stepped in and started undoing straps and laces.  Peggy didn’t even pretend to argue.  She braced her hands behind herself, leaning back as he took off her boots.  As soon as they were off, she shrugged out of her fatigue pants and then lay back on the bed in a dirty white tanktop and a pair of underwear.

 

There were bruises everywhere.  Her left side looked particularly damaged, like she’d been thrown into something at considerable velocity.  She held her hand out to him and he climbed onto the bed next to her.  She immediately curled into him and fell asleep almost instantly.

 

Carefully, Steve pulled a blanket over her and then kicked off his own shoes.  He hadn’t thought he was tired, but with her curled up against him, he quickly fell asleep.

* * *

 

It was dark when they woke, but Steve didn’t think it was too late.  A quick look at his phone showed that it was nine in the evening.  Next to him, Peggy made a plaintive sound.

 

“You hungry?” he asked.

 

“Starving.”

 

He scrubbed a hand over his face.  “Take a shower,” he said.  “I’ll find us some food.”

 

By the time he returned from the commissary with a variety of food, Peggy was out of the shower.  She was wearing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts, which made him unexpectedly happy.

 

She still looked tired, but the bruising had already improved significantly.  He set the containers of food on the kitchen counter and looked at her.  “You want to talk about it?”

 

She made a face.  “Let’s eat first.”

 

“That good, eh?” he asked.

 

She shook her head.  “It’s such a clusterfuck,” she swore bleakly.

 

They took the food out to the living room and ate while they watched TV.  Peggy leaned against him the entire time and, again, Steve felt very grateful to have a partner, to be her partner.  After everything that had happened in the last five years, he knew how lonely it could get.  He knew how gutted certain missions could leave you feeling.  

 

When the food was gone, Steve turned off the TV and looked at Peggy.  “Okay,” he said, “what’s up?”

 

She shook her head.  “Thor’s going to make Loki rehash it tomorrow in front of Vision and Wanda,” she said.  “Long and the short is that there aren’t five gems, there are six.”

 

Steve frowned down at her.  “Six? How’s that possible?  Someone miscounted?”

 

She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

 

“Does Loki have them?” Steve asked.

 

Peggy snorted.  “Loki doesn’t have any of the gems,” she said.  “ _None_.  The Tesseract, the Aether, both gone.  In the hands of some super being called Thanos.  He’s the one who controls the Chitauri, among others.”

 

“Thanos,” Steve said, shaking his head.  Shit.  This wasn’t good.  “So the missing two gems, does he have them too?”

 

“We don’t think so,” Peggy said.

 

“I’m guessing that _think_ is the important word in that sentence,” Steve said.

 

“Yeah,” Peggy said wearily.  “The Soul Gem and the Time Gem are the two that are unaccounted for,” she explained.  “It’s possible that Thanos already has them, though Thor doesn’t think that’s the case.  The Time Gem is apparently the odd one out.  I didn’t follow the logic, but it’s elemental, universal, like the other gems.  Spans worlds.  But for iterations that are very closely related, it can apparently be intangible.”

 

“I guess that could be handy,” Steve said cautiously, “in the event that someone like Thanos is trying to gather all the gems.”

 

“Maybe,” she said.  “I didn’t really get the impression that it being intangible was a good thing.  It sounded to me like we’re essentially sharing this version of the Time Gem with the world you came from.  That it’s somehow stuck between our two iterations.”

 

“So, if it’s stuck between our two worlds, how the hell are we supposed to find it?”

 

“I have no idea,” she admitted.  “Maybe Wanda and Vision will have ideas.  Because if Loki knows about this, it’s a good bet Thanos does too.  And since we’ve only found out about it, we have no idea where, or how, to even start looking.”

 

“Well,” Steve said, “maybe Thor can convince his brother to cooperate.”

 

Peggy just looked at him and Steve had to admit it was a long shot.  But he also knew that Loki tended to be his own worst enemy.  Maybe they could benefit from his self-defeating nature.

 

Leaning forward, Peggy sighed.  “I’m going to bed,” she said.  She stood up and looked down at Steve.  He motioned for her to lead the way.  

 

Neither of them bothered to turn on the light and they both peeled out of their clothes and crawled into bed.  Steve pulled Peggy close, but didn’t start anything in the event that she just wanted to go to sleep.  

 

However, when she started kissing him, he was happy to oblige.  He missed her, missed the sense of completion being near her brought him.  He kissed her gently, leaning over her.  Her hands played over his neck, his shoulders, down his side.

 

He would have been content to make love to her all night, but she apparently had other plans.  Impatiently, she tugged him over her, wrapping her legs around his waist.  He didn’t tease, sliding into her gently.  She made a soft sound, her hands gripping his upper arms as he rubbed her in counterpoint to his thrusts.  

 

She came quickly, arching beneath him, her fingernails digging into his skin.  He followed quickly after.

 

In the aftermath, they lay there, legs twined together, touching, dozing.  “I’m glad you’re home,” Steve said quietly.

 

“Me too,” Peggy replied.

 

* * *

 

Morning arrived far too quickly, accompanied by someone banging loudly on the apartment door.  Steve threw on a pair of sweatpants and answered it to find Claire glaring at him.  “Where is she?”

 

Steve motioned to the bedroom and busied himself with making coffee.  He could hear Peggy and Claire talking in the bedroom, but he couldn’t make out the words.  He knew enough to know it was probably about the fact that Peggy had been beaten up, and had gone to bed, rather than going to see Claire.  Claire tended to get bent out of shape about stuff like that.

 

Claire finally made her way back out to the kitchen.  She glared at him.  “Go put on a shirt, for fuck’s sake,” she snapped.  “What do you think this is?  A casting call for ab models?”

 

Steve just stared at her, coffee in hand.  “No,” he said calmly, “I think this is my kitchen.”

 

“Yes, and you can’t help the fact that you look like a goddamn greek god,” she countered sourly.  “Just go put on a shirt, dammit!”

 

Claire was upset about Peggy.  Steve knew that.  And he understood.  He had been upset when he saw the shape she was in too.  Deciding that arguing would get none of them anywhere, he walked toward the bedroom, passing Peggy as he went.  She was dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts.

 

“She’s really irritated,” Peggy whispered.

 

“I noticed,” Steve said.

 

Steve wasn’t being a coward.  He made a strategic decision to stay in the bedroom until Claire left.  He heard the front door close and Peggy came back to the bedroom, flopping down next to him.

 

“I’m guessing you’re supposed to check in after missions,” Steve said.

 

Peggy frowned at him, but didn’t reply.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked.  She looked better.  The bruising was pretty much gone on her left leg, but she still looked tired.  There were dark smudges beneath her eyes.

 

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing herself into a sitting position.  “Certainly nothing I can’t handle.  I am starving though.”

 

“C’mon,” he said, standing up and holding a hand out to her.  He was hungry too.  He was always hungry.  “Let’s go get breakfast.”

 

* * *

 

“Something happened,” Peggy said pointedly.  “While I was gone.”

 

Steve looked at her and realized that she meant something happened to _him_ , rather than to her.  He shrugged.  They were in the kitchen.  Steve was sitting at the table, using the laptop and Peggy was sitting on the counter, drinking a cup of tea, watching him.  The interrogation of Loki wasn’t supposed to start until afternoon, so they were just killing time, waiting on Tony to drag himself out of bed.

 

“I didn’t sleep well,” Steve said.  It wasn’t a lie.

 

“Nightmares?” she asked.

 

He looked at her, frowning.

 

“I had them,” she said.  “After they defrosted me.”  She shook her head.  “They were awful.  Took years to go away.”  She shrugged.  “I still get them sometimes.”

 

“Yeah,” he said tightly.  “Something like that.”  Had it been anyone else, he would have made some excuse, used a diversion.  But it was Peggy and she knew what it was like and she deserved the truth.  “It was different from the ones I had after they woke me up,” he said.  “It was some kind of flashback or something.  I saw the ... whatever it was that Wanda showed me when I fought her in my world.  A glimpse into a life of regrets, missed opportunities.”

 

“What did she show you?” she asked.

 

He pursed his lips together and looked at the floor for a moment before looking back at her.  “Peggy,” he said.  “Some version of the Peggy I knew during the war.  Waiting for me at the Stork club.  Telling me the war was over and we could go home.”  He shook his head.  “But it was more than that, things weren’t right.  It was intermixed with war, fights.”  He took a deep breath.  “Loss.  Always loss.”

 

“Bucky?” she asked.

 

He frowned.  “He wasn’t part of the vision, but yeah.  That loss was there too.”  He took a breath.  “It’s here, with me.  It’s always with me.”

 

She nodded in understanding.  “You’re worried about him,” she said.

 

He nodded.  “Yeah.”

 

“Do you want to go home?” she asked carefully.

 

“No,” he said, shaking his head.  He sighed.  “I don’t know.  I don’t want to leave you.  That’s about all I do know right now.”

 

She set her tea down and hopped off the counter, crossing the room to him.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.  She threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead.  “Well,” she said, “whenever you figure it out, you know where I am.  Just don’t leave without telling me.”

 

“You have my word that won’t happen, as long as I have a say in things,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Steve stood on the catwalk, staring across the space into one of the conference rooms where the main Avengers team was questioning Loki with Vision and Wanda.  As Steve stood there, Erik Selvig came to stand next to him.  Steve looked over at Selvig.  “I’m guessing you don’t want to get too close,” he said.

 

Selvig laughed darkly.  “You could say that,” he said.  “He’s a crafty bastard, that one.  I knew it was too good to be true when Thor said he was dead.”

 

“So how much do you know about the Infinity Gems?” Steve asked.

 

Selvig shrugged.  “Far more than I would care to know,” he said wryly.  He sighed.  “Loki is going to tell them that the sixth gem, the Time Gem, is intangible, trapped between realms.”

 

“Is it?” Steve asked.

 

Selvig looked over at him.  “Maybe.”

 

Steve waited.

 

Selvig sighed again.  “The Time Gem is different from the others,” he said.  Then he frowned.  “Truthfully, all of the gems are unique.  They all play by their own rules.  But the point at which the gems interact with our realities tend to be fairly static.”

 

“With the exception of the Time Gem,” Steve guessed.

 

“Exactly,” Selvig said.  “The Time Gem actually creates the iterations of the multiverse.  The point at which one reality deviates from another.  A single choice.  A single event.  These are what create the multitudes of iterations.  And they’re all dependent on the Time Gem because if you can control time, you can control whether or not any given iteration is created.”

 

“But it’s intangible, right?  So it should be impossible for Thanos to control it.  There’s nothing to find.”

 

Selvig just looked at him, lips pursed tightly together.

 

“What?” Steve asked warily.

 

“I spent most of the night with Wanda and Vision, discussing that very subject,” Selvig said.

 

“And?”

 

“And we think, yes, that is generally true.  For two iterations so closely linked, the Time Gem will actually exist between them.  At least until they become sufficiently different from one another.”

 

“Generally true,” Steve repeated.  “But not true in this case?”

 

Selvig sighed.  “We think there are actions that can be taken to force the Time Gem into our physical reality, force it to take shape.”

 

“What kind of actions?” Steve asked, certain he didn’t want to know.

 

“You,” Selvig said quietly.  “We think that your presence here, in our iteration, could have forced the Time Gem to take physical form.”

 

Steve shook his head, confused.  “So you think what?  That Thanos pulled me here so he could get the gem?”

 

Selvig shook his head.  “Actually no,” he said.  “We don’t think Thanos did it.  There’s no indication at all that Thanos knows, or cares, that you’re here.  Same for Loki.  He doesn’t know anything about you.”

 

“Then who?” Steve demanded.

 

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Selvig said.  “I wish I knew.  I wish I had any idea.  But I don’t.”  He nodded to the conference room.  “Nothing Loki is going to tell them is going to help us.”

 

“Peggy was right,” Steve said darkly.  “This is a clusterfuck.”

 

Selvig laughed bitterly.

 

 

  
END CHAPTER


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a couple of people ask after the last chapter, so I just wanted to clarify that the Time Gem is a gem, just like the other Infinity Gems. Not a person. Apologies for any confusion ;)

“Did Loki have anything useful to say?” Steve asked Peggy.

 

They were outside, halfway through their run and miles from the Avengers compound on a bluff overlooking acres of forested land.  The fall colors were stunning and they had stopped to catch their breaths.  And talk.  And generally be alone together, miles from anyone else.

 

“Nothing we hadn’t already figured out,” Peggy said, her frustration clear.

 

“I talked to Selvig earlier,” Steve said, looking over at her.  She met his gaze.  “He told me the theory he, Wanda and Vision came up with, that my presence here could have forced the Time Gem to take shape in this world.”

 

Peggy frowned.  “They’re just guessing.  We don’t know a damn thing.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said, frowning.  “But we still have to find those Gems before Thanos does.”

 

Peggy nodded, looking tired.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve pressed.  “You look beat.”

 

“I’m fine,” she said, frowning.

 

“Did you ever go see Claire?” he asked.  She narrowed her gaze at him.  “You know you’re just making it harder on yourself,” he said.  “She’s going to be twice as mad if you blow her off twice.”

 

“If I get killed on a mission, then maybe I can avoid it all together.”

 

“ _Peggy_ ,” Steve said.

 

“I just ... you know, the prospect of standing around in my skivvies while someone yells at me doesn’t exactly fill me with joy,” she said, frowning.

 

“She cares,” Steve said.  “She worries about you.”  He sighed.  “It’s good to have people who worry about you.”

 

She looked over at him, her expression softening.  She stepped closer.  “Did you have people who cared about you, back home?”

 

He shrugged awkwardly and then nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess.  I’m sure they cared.  It’s just ... we’re not that close.  And before I got pulled in here, the team makeup was really starting to change.”

 

“How so?” she asked.

 

“Thor,” he said, frowning.  “You know, he pretty much keeps his own schedule.  But Tony took a page out of his book.  Said he was thinking about building Pepper a farm like Barton’s.  Hoped nobody blew it up.”

 

“Barton’s farm?” Peggy asked, frowning.

 

Steve looked at her.  “I guess I haven’t even asked,” he said.  “Is Clint married in this world?”

 

“Married?” Peggy said, laughing.  “Uh, no.  Categorically no.”

 

Steve shrugged.  “That’s what I thought too.  That’s what we all thought.  Everyone except Nat and Fury.  After Wanda attacked all of us, we retreated to Barton’s place for a couple days.  He has a wife, Laura, and three kids.  A home, you know.  The whole nine yards.  A normal life.  Separate from all the Avenging.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about a farm,” Peggy said.  “He may have one of those stashed somewhere.  But there’s no wife.  He and Nat have been solid for quite a while.  I mean, I think they’ve been on and off for years.  But definitely since the Avengers became a thing, they’ve been a thing too.”

 

“You sure?” Steve asked skeptically.

 

“Yes,” she said firmly.  “And if they’re putting on a show, then they both deserve oscars, or whatever the porn equivalent of oscars are.  They aren’t apart long enough for him to have a secret family somewhere.”

 

Steve arched an eyebrow, but decided against asking.

 

“So, Barton, Tony and Thor were all pulling away from the team in your world,” she said.  “And you already mentioned Natasha and Banner’s issues and entanglements.”  She looked at him.  “What about you?”

 

Steve shrugged.  “You already know my story,” he said.  He looked out across the expanse of woodland.  “Tony and I discussed it once,” he said.  “I made some crack about him wanting the simple life. He told me I’d get there one day.”

 

Peggy reached out, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, tugging lightly.  “What’d you say?”

 

Steve shook his head.  “I told him that the man who wanted family and stability had gone into the ice seventy-five years ago.  And I thought someone else came out.”

 

She looked at him, her expression tight.  “Did you mean that?”

 

“At the time,” Steve said, nodding.  He shrugged.  “But now ...”  He looked at her.  “I was so sure that my chance at a life with a real partner was gone forever.  But now ... now I think I want a lot more than I realized.”

 

“Like Barton’s life?” she asked.  “The wife, the kids, the home?”

 

He pursed his lips together and frowned.  “I really hadn’t gotten into the specifics.  But yeah, a partner, a home, whatever that means.”

 

Peggy took a deep breath and smiled at him.  Then she let go of his shirt and turned away.  She walked to the edge of the bluff, looking out at the quickly darkening sky.  

 

Steve went to stand next to her.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to scare you off with all that.”

 

She shook her head.  “You didn’t scare me,” she said calmly.  “Not at all.”

 

He looked over at her and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.  “So what’s going on over there?”

 

“It’s good to hear you say that you want a family,” she said quietly, looking at him.  “Really good to hear.”  She swallowed harshly.  “Because I’m late.  Very, incredibly late.”

 

He stared at her.  One of them was always late for something.  He wasn’t sure what that had to do with a home.  “Late for what?”

 

She looked at him, blinking.  “Steve, I’m _late_.  As in, I should have bled and I didn’t, probably because I’m pregnant.”

 

He stared at her.  Pregnant.  Peggy was ... He opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head.  “Have you, uh ... Have you talked to Claire about this?”

 

She sighed, shoulders slumping.  “No,” she said.  “Because I don’t feel like getting another lecture from her.”

 

Steve had absolutely no idea what to do.  He reached out for Peggy, pulling her against him.  She leaned into him wearily.  

 

“It was just ...” She sighed.  “I should have been more careful.  Or, you know, even the tiniest bit cautious.”

 

“ _We_ should have been more careful,” Steve said, frowning.  He was very aware that he had said he wanted a family.  But she hadn’t said she wanted one.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, shaking his head.  “I just ... I didn’t even think.”

 

She looked out at the evening sky, blinking quickly, obviously trying not to cry.  She was upset and while that seemed understandable to him, he also wasn’t sure exactly _why_ she was upset.  Did she regret that this had happened?

 

“I could have said something and I didn’t,” she said.  “I could have done something and I didn’t.  I should have talked to you about it, about what you wanted or didn’t want.”  She sighed, hanging her head.  “Claire as much as told me this was going to happen and I didn’t believe her.”

 

“So,” he asked cautiously, “do you want this?”

 

She looked at him and then away, a tear tracking down her cheek.  “What I want is quite possibly irrelevant,” she said.

 

He frowned, confused.  “Meaning what?”

 

She looked at him for a long moment and then sighed.  “I lost the last one,” she said quietly.  She looked away.  “There were so many factors.  Steve’s medical history for starters. And then mine.”  She swallowed thickly.  “We figured it wasn’t possible.  And then I woke up from the ice and everyone and everything I had ever known was gone, but I had ... I had _that_.”

 

She sniffled loudly, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt.  “And then almost as soon as I found out, it was ... gone.”

 

“Peggy,” he said, holding her tighter.

 

She shook her head sadly and wouldn’t meet his gaze.  “We didn’t try, but we weren’t careful at all.  We thought it was Steve,” she said, smiling darkly.  “We thought he was the reason.”

 

She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “But I physically feel the same as last time.  I feel terrible right now.  Tired and achey and awful.  I’m not bouncing back from the fight with Loki the way I should.  So maybe it turns out it’s me that’s the problem.  I’m the broken one.  So much for the pinnacle of human potential.”

 

Steve kissed her cheeks, her forehead, finally her lips.  He held her close, offering as much comfort as he could.  

 

“The timing couldn’t possibly be worse," she said.  "Thanos is trying to take control of the universe.  You could be gone with no warning.  The team needs me at full capacity.”  She took a deep breath.  “But I want this,” she said in a small whisper.  “So much.”

 

“I want this too,” he said firmly.  She looked up at him, giving him a watery smile.  “And you said yourself, the timing will never be right.  The fight will never end.  We still have to live our lives.”

 

She frowned at him.  “You know, it’s annoying when you use my own words against me.”

 

He smiled at her, kissing her.  “So,” he said.  “Let’s walk back and then call Claire.”

 

Peggy made an unhappy sound.

 

“I’ll take the blame,” he said.  “She can yell at me.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh my fucking God,” Claire yelled.  “I told you this was going to happen.”

 

“It’s my fault,” Steve said.

 

Claire narrowed her eyes at him and held up an accusatory finger. “Nice try,” she said.  “But I know you’re not the one in charge.”

 

Peggy frowned at Claire, looking down at the vial of blood she was drawing.  Peggy was sitting on the couch in the living room of their apartment with Steve at her side.  Claire had come over as soon as Steve called her.

 

“Are you bleeding right now?” Claire asked.

 

Peggy shook her head. “No, but I feel like shit.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Claire said flatly, “maybe that’s because you got the crap beat out of you two days ago.”  She looked at instant read test she’d had Peggy take.  It was positive.  Claire looked at Steve.  “Congratulations, by the way.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

She looked down at Peggy, her expression softening.  “Cap, just because it happened last time doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again,” she said.  “Miscarriages are incredibly common and they are routinely followed by successful pregnancies.”

 

Peggy looked up at her.

 

“Do you want this?” Claire asked seriously.  

 

Peggy nodded.  “Yeah, I do.”  Next to her, Steve took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

 

“Well,” Claire said dryly.  “You’re definitely pregnant right now.  I’ll check your levels tomorrow.  We can see if they’re rising or falling.  If you start bleeding, give me a call.”

 

“Why?” Peggy asked bleakly.  “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“ _So I know_ , you asshole,” Claire barked.  “I care, believe it or not.”  She looked at Steve.  “ _You_ call me.  Or else.”

 

He nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Steve saw Claire out and returned to the living room.  As soon as he sat down on the couch, Peggy curled into him.  He held her close.

 

Steve was still trying to take it all in.  He was sure Peggy was too.  He understood, of course, that he and Peggy hadn’t been careful at all.  They hadn’t taken any precautions at all.  And they’d had a lot of sex.  But somehow it just hadn’t occurred to him that it was possible.  Probably for the same reasons Peggy had stated earlier about her Steve.  They’d told his mother, when he was still a child, that he'd never be able to father children, that he’d be too sickly.  And then, even after the serum, he’d never been in any sort of position that caused him to reevaluate that decree.  There’d been no point in worrying about his fertility, or lack thereof, if he wasn’t having sex with anyone.

 

He wondered if Skinny Steve had ever known.  Had he known that he and Peggy created a life together?  Steve doubted it.  From the way she spoke, it sounded like she hadn’t found out until after they thawed her out, and then as soon as she found out, it was already too late.  Another loss, compounding all the others.  Maybe eclipsing the others.  He squeezed her tight.

 

Some part of Steve had always longed for a family, for a wife and children.  But for as long as he’d had that dream, people had been telling him it wasn’t possible.  Doctors said he couldn’t father children.  Girls never gave him a second glance.  It had always been a pipe dream, something unattainable.  

 

He had Peggy now, and that was so much more than he ever dreamed possible.  And he’d bent the laws of physics to make it happen.  But to have a child with her ... he just didn’t even know how to approach that idea.

 

“Do you really want this?” she asked.  “You know, now that it’s too late to have a proactive conversation about it?”

 

He sighed, holding her close.  “I want you,” he said.  “And yes, I want this baby.  But mostly, I want you.  I love you and you will always be my priority.”

 

She sniffled loudly.  “If this doesn’t work out, you can always find someone who could actually give you a family.”

 

He pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head.  “You are my family, Peggy.  You’re it.  Don’t bother trying to get rid of me.”

 

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she said, her voice slightly muffled by the fact that she was resting her head against his chest.

 

“Good,” he said.  “Because you can’t.”  He just hoped to God that was true.

 

* * *

 

“Your levels are fine,” Claire said, looking at the results on her phone the next morning.  “They’re rising as expected.  Stop being a headcase.”

 

“Your bedside manner is awe inspiring,” Peggy said, but Steve knew she was relieved.

 

Claire scrolled through screens on her phone, consulting a calendar.  “You’re about six weeks.  Your levels are actually a little high given that timeline.”  She looked at Peggy.  “Maybe you’re having twins.”

 

Peggy glared up at her.  “Fuck you.”

 

“If you’d done that, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Claire said defiantly.  “Just think about that for a while when you can’t see your feet.”

 

“Six weeks?” Steve asked, frowning.  He’d barely even been in this world for six weeks.

 

Claire shook her head.  “Get ready for the mindfuck that is pregnancy calendaring,” Claire said.  “It means you knocked her up four weeks ago.  Also, it’s not nine months.  It’s ten.  You’re welcome about that too.”

 

Steve blushed, looking away.  He’d told Peggy that he enjoyed the fact that no one found it odd that he was a regular guy with a personal life.  But he wasn’t so sure he was okay with the excruciatingly intimate details of his personal life being discussed so cavalierly.

 

Peggy, however, didn’t seem bothered.  She looked up at Claire.  “Do I have any kind of restrictions?”

 

Claire looked down at her and shrugged.  “I advise strongly against fighting with demigods,” she said.  “Aside from that, play it by ear.  Listen to your body.  If you’re fatigued, rest.  You might give Ilya a heads up that he’s going to need to make modifications to the suit.  I’m already astounded that he can fit that rack of yours in there.  And it’s only going to get bigger.”

 

Steve opened his mouth, but Peggy just glared at him and he closed it again.

 

Claire noticed and laughed.  “You two have fun,” she said, heading for the door.

 

Steve saw her out and returned to the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to Peggy.  

 

“No,” she said, answering his unspoken question, “I am not benching myself.”

 

He winced, frowning.  “I wasn’t going to suggest benching.”

 

“What were you going to suggest?” she asked.

 

He looked over at her and sighed.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “I get it,” he said.  “I do.  You’re Captain America, but Peggy ...”

 

She just stared at him, eyes narrowed.

 

“I just want you to be safe,” he said quietly.  “That’s all.  It’s no commentary on how good you are at your job.  But you did just get into a fight with a demigod the other day.  And as you said, you’re not bouncing back the way you should.”

 

She groaned, sinking back in the couch cushions.  “Steve, you know this isn’t just a job.  It’s who I am.  I can’t just ... stop being me because we might have a kid next year.”

 

“I’m not asking you to stop being you,” he said firmly.  “I’m just asking you to prioritize for a little while.”  He looked at her, pursing his lips together.  “It’s not like you don’t have a backup,” he said.  “I can do the same job you do.  You’re covered.”

 

She frowned, but Steve had the impression he’d won the first round.  For a while, at least.  He sighed.  “Are you going to tell the team?”

 

“No,” she swore, shaking her head.  “No, I am not.  I figure we have a couple of months before it’s something that has to be addressed.  If it has to be addressed.”

 

“It’ll have to be addressed,” Steve said blandly.  “I know you’re gunshy, but seriously.  The kid already lived through one hell of a fight with Loki.  And if it happened four weeks ago, then it happened pretty much as soon as we first started sleeping together.”  He smiled at her tightly.  “I don’t think fertility is going to be our issue.”

 

She just looked at him.

 

“You’re going to need to tell them,” he said.  “Sooner, rather than later.  I’ve seen how quickly secrets can tear this dynamic apart.  They need to know.  Especially if you’re going to back off your schedule and if you want me to pick up the slack.  It’s going to be a lot easier if they know why.”

 

“Fine,” she said flatly.

 

“Listen,” he said, “you don’t have to do it alone.  I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

The morning briefing hadn't held any revelations, at least not yet.  Loki was still in the cage, still uncooperative.  Wanda, Vision, Selvig and Sif were still trying to figure out what to do about the missing Gems and had consequently skipped the morning briefing entirely.

 

Natasha went over some intel on vibranium smuggling, but she didn’t have an actual target identified yet.  When it was apparent that the meeting was getting ready to break up, Peggy cleared her throat.  “So, I have an announcement,” she said without much enthusiasm.  Most people around the table glanced at her, but no one seemed particularly interested.  “I’m pregnant,” she said quickly.  “It’s early, but I thought you all should know.”

 

Tony stopped his habitual pacing and blinked at her.  “How the hell are you pregnant?” he demanded, leaning forward, bracing his hands on the table.  He looked from Peggy to Steve and back again.  “Can we assume it’s Rogers’?”

 

“Yes,” Peggy said.  She knew that Steve was undoubtedly beet red, but she couldn’t look at him.  She was sitting there in her chair, concentrating on trying to appear unaffected.

 

Tony shook his head.  “I don’t get it.”

 

“So, human biology,” Peggy began.

 

“Oh shut up,” Tony snapped.  “I understand _how_ , I just don’t understand how.  I mean, you two are adults.  I know you’re older than dirt, but theoretically, at least, you understand that we have the technology now to prevent this sort of thing.”

 

“Stark,” Thor said, smacking Tony so hard on the shoulder that he almost knocked him over, “this is not a time for fighting, this is a time for rejoicing.”  He walked around the table and embraced Peggy tightly.  “Congratulations, Peggy,” he said with a big grin.  He turned to Steve, clapping him on the shoulder, “And to you too.”

 

“Thank you,” Peggy said, somewhat flustered.  

 

“So does this mean you’re off the team?” Barton asked.

 

“I’m cutting back,” she said tightly.  “Steve’s going to step in for me.  For a while.”

 

There were a few grumbles from Tony, but everyone else seemed okay with the idea.  And Peggy had to admit that Steve was right.  It did seem that coming out and telling everyone what was going on up front, was going to make things easier.  Tony’s irritation would fade soon enough and everyone else seemed okay.  Well, mostly okay.  Bruce seemed more withdrawn than usual, but there was nothing Peggy could do about that.

 

The meeting broke up and people were milling around.  Peggy noticed that Scott had entered the room and cornered Steve.  Presumably about some random bit of business since he and Sam weren’t actually part of the morning briefings yet.  They probably didn’t know about the bombshell.  Yet.  Scott would undoubtedly find out in record time.  Knowing it would be a while before Steve was free, Peggy took a seat, scrolling through her phone.  

 

Tony sank down in the chair next to her.  “So,” he said, “for future reference, there is this thing called birth control.  I know in your time it was pretty hit or miss, but these days the science is solid.”

 

She frowned at him.  “I guess it hasn’t occurred to you that we weren’t preventing.”

 

He looked at her, eyes narrowed.  It was clear he hadn’t considered it.  His expression softened a bit.  “So this was on purpose?”

 

It was absolutely none of his business, Peggy knew.  But for some reason, she felt compelled to answer his question.  “Not really on purpose, no,” she said.  “But we’re ninety-five fucking years old, Tony.  How much longer do you think we should wait?”

 

Tony raised his eyebrows, clearly not having considered it in that light.  “I mean, chronologically maybe you’re ninety-five, but from a physical perspective, you’re what?  Thirty?  Thirty-one?  You’re a hell of a lot younger than me.”  He sighed.  “Look, I know Barnes just died and that was hard on you.

 

Peggy frowned at him, setting her phone down on the table.  “I was never involved with Bucky.  I was involved with _Steve_.  And I lost my Steve,” she said quietly.  “Forever.”  She looked at Tony.  It was the first time she’d admitted that to anyone other than Steve or Claire.  Most people, Tony included, bought the official government line about her relationship with Bucky.  She shook her head.  “And he lost his Peggy.  Forever.  We both know what it means to miss an opportunity that we can never get back.”  

 

Tony seemed to consider it for a while.  “And he’s the one, Cap?” he asked.  “I know he’s a double for ...” he searched for words “your Steve, but they are actually different people.  How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because I am,” she said blandly, crossing her arms over her chest.  “You want some logical explanation, I don’t have one. I know that when I’m with him, I don’t feel alone.  For the first time since they thawed me out.”

 

“Well, I could point out that you’re not alone,” Tony said dryly, “because he knocked you up.  You won’t be alone for quite a while.”  He arched an eyebrow at her.

 

“ _Tony_.”

 

“And what if he disappears tomorrow?” Tony asked.

 

“We don’t have any control over that,” Peggy said.  “He may disappear tomorrow.  Or he may die here, a hundred years from now.  It still won’t change the decisions I’m making today.”  She sighed.  “I don’t understand why you care so much about this.”

 

He looked at her, frowning.  “Because I care about you,” he said seriously.  “I care.  I don’t want you to get hurt.”  He looked away, lips pursed together.  “You may trust this guy, but I’m still on the fence.  You guys got really involved really quick.  He seems a little too good to be true.”

 

“He is too good to be true,” she said, with a laugh.  “It’s why Erskine wanted him for Project Rebirth.”

 

Tony shook his head.  “I don’t trust a guy without a dark side, Cap.”

 

She frowned.  “Tony, just because someone doesn’t wear their trauma like a badge doesn’t mean they don’t have any.”

 

Tony gave her a long, appraising look.  “Does he let you in?”

 

She looked at Tony and then away.  She finally turned back to him.  “Yeah,” she said, nodding.  “He does.  Does that make you feel better?”

 

Tony frowned.  “I don’t know.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “Well, just so we’re clear, I’m not asking for your approval, I’m just letting you know what’s happening.”

 

END CHAPTER  


	14. Chapter 14

“You know her,” Sam said, frowning at Steve, repeating Steve’s words back to him.  “You more than ‘ _know her_ ’, man.”

 

Steve looked up from where he was lacing up his boot.  Sam and Scott had seen Peggy kiss him on the cheek several days earlier, so they already knew there was something more between them then merely being teammates.  But he knew the reality of the situation was probably considerably more than either Sam or Scott suspected.  Steve had been dreading Scott’s reaction in particular.  

 

“It’s our business,” Steve said blandly.

 

Sam shook his head, but held his hand out to Steve.  “Congratulations.”

 

“Thanks,” Steve said, shaking his hand.  He assumed it would get less weird with time, but right now it felt so strange to be congratulated, considering what his part in the proceedings had been.  Scott simply stood there, watching, arms crossed over his chest.  Steve thought he looked a little like his feelings were hurt.

 

“I noticed you guys were awful friendly the other day, but I didn't realize she was with anybody,” Sam said, taking a seat on the locker room bench next to Steve.  “The media always made a point of mentioning that she was single.  You know those stupid ‘most eligible’ lists and things.”

 

“She was voted People’s Sexiest person,” Scott said, sounding awestruck.  Apparently any hurt feelings had to take a back seat behind his enthusiasm for all things Captain America  “Twice.  You should have seen her last cover.  It was amazing.  She was in the full Cap suit, helmet and all.  Showing practically no skin.”  He sighed.  “So hot,” he said, mostly to himself and then seemed to realize he’d said it out loud and flushed, looking at Steve.

 

Steve shook his head, thinking of the adage that Providence protected children and idiots.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I didn’t know about the magazine covers.  Peg didn’t mention it.  Guess it must have slipped her mind.”

 

“So, not to be rude,” Scott said, “but what the hell is the deal with you?  How do you _not_ know these things?  And how _do_ you know her?”

 

Steve looked at Sam who also had an expectant expression.  Taking a deep breath, Steve gave them a very abbreviated overview of how he knew Peggy.  And why he didn’t know about her People magazine covers.  

 

“Another iteration of the multi-verse,” Scott said skeptically.  “I’m an engineer and I’m pretty sure that theory violates just about every law of physics.”

 

“You know what, Lang, you and Stark should feel free to discuss how it’s not possible all you want.  But it actually happened to me, so I’m going to go with it,” Steve snapped.

 

Scott held his hands up in surrender.  

 

The rest of the day, Steve made sure to keep Scott so busy he didn’t have time to talk.  It was quite the trick, but Steve managed.  It wasn’t a long term solution, but for an afternoon reprieve, it worked.

 

Steve slipped away late in the afternoon to check in and see if any more progress had been made on the Gems.  He finally found Selvig, who sounded hopeful that they stumbled upon a way to at least start looking for the Gems that didn’t involve turning over every rock in the galaxy.  Of course, Steve had heard that before.  It was how he ended up here in the first place, so he wasn’t overly optimistic.

 

It was dark when Steve headed back to the apartment. He hadn’t seen Peggy since the morning briefing, and he wasn’t especially shocked to find her asleep on the bed when he got home.  He flopped down next to her and she blinked at him.  “You want food?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” she said before closing her eyes and immediately falling back to sleep.

 

He smiled at her and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before going out to the kitchen.  He stared into the refrigerator for several minutes before deciding to go to commissary and bring something back.  He pushed through the doors of the building that housed the team apartments and started off across the expanse of manicured grass that separated the building from the commissary.  There was a small pond with a water feature and a few benches situated in the middle of the expanse of green.  As Steve got closer, he realized someone was sitting there on one of the benches.  It was Dr. Banner.  Steve slowed and nodded.

 

“Hey,” Banner said, waving without much enthusiasm.

 

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said, he approached him cautiously, reading his body language.  There wasn’t much to see.  Banner was sitting there, hands clasped together, staring at the water feature.  

 

“I guess I should say congratulations,” Banner said, looking up at him.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Steve said carefully.

 

“Don’t worry,” Banner said.  “I’m not harboring any delusions that there was anything between me and Peggy.”  He sighed.  “It was just that being miserably lonely next to each other made it less obvious that I was miserably lonely.”  He nodded.  “She hasn’t seemed miserable for a while now.”

 

Steve took a seat next to Banner.  “I know the feeling,” he said quietly.  “Of being miserably lonely, I mean.”

 

Banner looked over at him skeptically, frowning.  “Do you?”

 

“I did,” Steve said.  “Where I came from.  There, uh - “  He shook his head.  “There really wasn’t anybody for me.”

 

Banner laughed and Steve frowned at him.  Sobering, Banner said incredulously, “You’re serious?   _You_ had problems finding a date?  I’m pretty sure if you google ‘the perfect guy’, a picture of you comes back.  Probably shirtless.”

 

Steve frowned.  “I could have found a date, if I’d looked,” he admitted.  “But I didn’t want a date.  I wanted a partner.  Those are in much shorter supply.”

 

Banner watched him for a long time.  “How long have you been in love with her?”

 

“Since June 14, 1943.”

 

“That’s ... oddly specific,” Banner said.

 

“It’s the first day I met her,” Steve said.  “At Camp Lehigh.  First day of the trials for Project Rebirth.  One of the recruits mouthed off to her and she knocked his ass in the dirt.”  He sighed.  “That was pretty much it for me.”

 

Banner nodded, but studied Steve again.  “And you never found anybody else?”

 

Steve shrugged.  “This life.  My life.  It doesn’t exactly lend itself to casual meetings.  There’s a lot of collateral damage.  Captain America has a lot of baggage.  It’s hard to be Steve sometimes.  There were ... flirtations, but never anything that led anywhere.”

 

Banner nodded.  “Yeah, I know that feeling too.”  

 

“Plus,” Steve said, “she’s a pretty impossible act to follow.”

 

Banner nodded.  “Do me a favor, take care of her.”

 

“I will,” Steve said.  “As much as she lets me.”

 

Banner laughed and shook his head.  “I see why she likes you.”

 

* * *

Steve returned with the food and managed to coax Peggy out into the living room to eat it.  The circles under her eyes were worse.

 

Answering his unspoken question, Peggy said, “Claire says exhaustion is completely normal in the first trimester.  Apparently it takes a lot of energy to build a person from scratch.  Who knew.  It’s supposed to get better.”  She frowned.  “At least I’m not sick,” she said, not sounding particularly excited about it.

 

Steve leaned over and kissed her on the forehead and she gave him a soft, genuine smile.  Steve cleaned up the dishes and when he came back to the living room, Peggy was asleep on the couch.  He woke her up and steered her back to the bedroom.  

 

When they finally climbed into bed together, Peggy curled against him, kissing him.  Steve returned the kiss enthusiastically, but after a couple of minutes, it was clear she was flagging.  Chuckling, he broke the kiss and urged her to roll over, curling against her back.  

 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

 

“I’ll live,” Steve said, tightening his arm around her waist.

 

* * *

Steve wasn’t sure if the exhaustion was getting better or if Peggy was forcing herself to muscle through it.  He suspected the latter.  When the team headed to South Africa several days later, Peggy was on the jet.  While she planned to cut back, she was still Banner’s lullabye, which meant that when he went near populated areas, she went too.

 

Steve forced himself not to hover.  She humored him in the privacy of their apartment, but he knew if he tried in front of the team, he’d probably find himself in the dirt, just like Hodge.  For her part, Peggy looked better.  The purple slashes under her eyes were finally starting to fade.  As Claire had suggested, Ilya already had to make modifications to the suit.  Peggy was thinner, but her chest was bigger - something she wasn’t happy about.  Steve refrained from giving his opinion on the matter.

 

Out of habit, the team still defered to Peggy, so she stepped up, calling the shots.  Considering the team’s last outing had been against Loki, the mercs were cake.  Banner didn’t even bother suiting up.  But by the time the rest of the team regrouped with Banner in the Quinjet at the end of the op, Peggy was running on fumes.

 

She and Steve took seats on the floor.  They’d only been in the air for about ten minutes when she rested her head on his shoulder, mindless of anyone watching.  From the other side of the jet, Tony frowned at them, but didn’t say anything.  Steve knew without asking that Peggy had never offered her opinion on Tony’s private life.  

 

But even though Steve was irritated, part of him did appreciate the team’s protective nature towards Peggy.  Like he’d told her, he had no intention of going anywhere.  But if the choice was out of his hands, he wanted to know that Peggy wouldn’t be alone.  Not again.  Especially not now.

 

* * *

 

“C’mon, Cap,” Steve said, brushing her hair back from her face.

 

She groaned, curling in on herself.  She was laying on the floor of the Quinjet, her head resting on Steve’s thigh.  It was just after three in the morning and the entire team was dead tired.

 

He nudged her shoulder.  “Come on,” he said quietly.  “I can carry you.  But I doubt you want that.”

 

She sighed, pushing herself to her feet.  “I can walk,” she snapped.  He knew that she really wasn’t mad at him, she was exhausted and not looking forward to walking from the hangar over to the team quarters.  They walked down the ramp hand in hand and Tony screeched to halt in front of them in a souped up golf cart.  

 

“Get in,” he said.

 

“I love you, Tony,” she said, sliding into the seat next to him.

 

“Don’t let Rogers hear you say that,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as Steve climbed in the back, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

Steve frowned at Peggy.  The purple slashes under her eyes were back.  She looked at him, gaze narrowed as she met his reflection in the mirror.  “What?” she asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.  Peggy had never, to Steve’s knowledge, been a morning person.  And at Claire’s suggestion, she’d cut out coffee.  Steve figured they’d be lucky to survive the next month without starting an intergalactic incident.

 

He pointed to his own eye.  “Your eyes,” he said.  “They looked better yesterday.”

 

“Concealer,” she said, rolling her eyes before leaning into the sink to spit out toothpaste.  “I couldn’t be bothered today.”

 

He frowned, feeling like an idiot.  As she left the bathroom and went to the kitchen, he followed.  He watched as she made a cup of tea that looked strong enough to use as a wood stain.  

 

“What’s the plan for today?” he asked.

 

She shrugged.  “I have to see Hill about some legal stuff.”

 

Steve arched an eyebrow.

 

“About, you know,” she gestured vaguely toward her midriff, “the spawn.  Considering its father doesn’t legally exist.  Or has been dead for sixty years.  Take your pick.  Both options are problematic.”  She looked at him.  “What about you?”

 

“I’ve got to go find Selvig,” he said, rather dreading the prospect.  “He thought they made some real progress on locating the missing gems.  I need to find out how that’s going.”

 

* * *

 

“It’s _where_?” Peggy asked, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Selvig and Thor, later that same day.  

 

“The Skrull Empire,” Thor repeated.  Loki, sitting in a chair against the wall in restraints, smirked.

 

Peggy rubbed her forehead with her hand.  “And that’s _where_?”

 

“The other side of the universe,” Selvig said, pursing his lips together in a frown.  It was clear he was under a lot of stress.  Steve knew they were lucky he was still wearing pants.

 

“The Soul Gem is on the other side of the universe with some race called the Skrull, who, presumably, aren’t going to want to turn it over.  And we’ve got to get it?” Peggy said.

 

Thor nodded, frowning.  “Before Thanos acquires it.”  He looked pointedly at Loki.  “The Mad Titan already has three of the Gems.  He cannot be allowed to collect any more.  The fate of the universe hangs in the balance.”

 

“I hate you all,” Peggy said, slumping down into one of the chairs.

 

* * *

“Have you been to Asgard before?” Peggy asked Steve in the privacy of their bedroom that evening.  She was sprawled on her back on the bed as Steve checked their gear over for problems.

 

He shook his head.  “Nope.  I journey through time and dimensions, apparently, not space.”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Peggy said offhand.  “I mean, as much as I noticed.  We were pretty busy with Loki the last time I was there.  Very shiny.  Asgard,” she qualified.  “Not Loki.”

 

Steve looked at her.  She looked more defeated than actually tired.  And he understood.  They were so completely out of their depth.  “And from Asgard, we can get to the Skrull Empire?” Steve asked.

 

“You know as much as I do,” Peggy said.  “Last time we stayed on Asgard.  I don’t know anything about heading for parts unknown.  If it involves the Bi-Frost, I can’t say I’m terribly excited.”

 

“That bad?” Steve asked.

 

“It’s ... unpleasant,” she said.

 

He frowned down at her.  “And it’s safe?” he asked.  “For you?”

 

She arched an eyebrow.  “Thor says it’s fine.”

 

Steve wasn’t convinced.  He liked Thor and generally found him to be a trustworthy guy.  But Steve wasn’t completely on board with this idea.  Thor wasn't a mortal.  Steve wondered if Thor would be so certain if it were Jane rather than Peggy.  Though, Steve reasoned, Peggy was more resilient than Jane.  And Peggy had already used the Bi-Frost, before they realized she was pregnant.

 

“Do we trust the B Team here unsupervised?” Peggy asked, frowning.

 

“They’re not completely unsupervised,” Steve said.  “Hill’s here.  Sam’s solid.  And Vision should be able to keep everyone in line.”

 

“Yeah, but then there’s Scott.”

 

Steve sighed, sitting down on the bed.  “Yeah.  He’s actually fairly skilled,” he said.  “He can be good in a fight.  Definitely thinks outside the box.  It’s just that he’s ....”

 

“Unbalanced?” Peggy offered.

 

“No,” Steve said, frowning.  “He’s ... goofy.”

 

Peggy snorted and Steve had the impression that she agreed with his assessment.  She watched him for several minutes before she patted, the mattress next to her.  He set the equipment aside and sprawled out on the mattress on his stomach next to her.  She immediately curled against him, leaning in for a kiss.  

 

He tried to pace himself, in the event that she started flagging, but by the time she pulled his shirt over his head, he was pretty sure she planned to see it through.  He was shocked by how intensely he wanted her.  It hadn’t been that long.  And it wasn’t like he hadn’t spent the vast bulk of his life celibate.  But, God, he’d missed her.

 

END CHAPTER


	15. Chapter 15

Steve stood, arms crossed over his chest, watching Thor and Heimdall confer.  It looked like they were bickering, though he doubted either of them would appreciate that assessment.  As Peggy had said, Asgard was very shiny.  And Steve did feel moderately better knowing Loki was in a holding cell here, rather than back at the Avengers’ facility.

The team arrived on Asgard earlier that morning, though they still didn’t have a final destination.  Peggy had been feeling unwell and was resting in a guest room, waiting for everyone to agree on a plan.

Shaking his head at Thor, Heimdall turned and left.  Before any of the team could ask anything of Thor, he was swamped by Asgardians.  Steve frowned.  He understood.  With Loki unmasked from where he’d been playing at being Odin, it meant that Thor was now in charge of the entire realm.  

But none of that was going to mean a damn thing if they didn’t find those gems.

Turning, Steve walked over to the sumptuously appointed conversation area, complete with giant roaring fire.  Tony looked bored out of his mind, as did Wanda.  Lady Sif was discussing something with Banner.  Clint and Natasha were both watching everything.

“Any word?” Tony asked, without opening his eyes.

“Not any that made any sense to me,” Steve said dryly.

“I hate to be that guy,” Clint said, sounding completely unrepentant, “but we’re pressed for time.  Universe in peril, you know.”

“Feel free to go hurry the king of Asgard,” Steve replied.

“Shit,” Clint cursed, pushing himself off the couch.  Steve didn’t know where he was going, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t actually headed to prod Thor.

“I’m going to check on Peggy,” Steve said, turning back toward their rooms.  He looked around as he walked, trying to take it all in.  Even with everything he’d seen, it was a lot to process.  He was not on Earth.  He was in the realm of aliens who called themselves gods, who could could perform the feats of gods.

How did he end up here?  And not just him.  He was here with the woman he loved, who was carrying their child.  And they were all on their way to try and stop a mad Titan from destroying the universe.  He hated to think how much he would owe Fury for this one.  It defied all logic.

And it scared the hell out of him.

He looked out across the city from the panoramic windows as he walked.  The sky was dark, but the city still glowed.  The stars were visible in a way they rarely were on Earth.  The rainbow bridge shone in the distance.  It was breathtaking, all of it.

Steve pushed through the doors to the guest suite and stopped, taking in the view.  It too, was breathtaking.  

 

* * *

 

Peggy stood at the balcony, her back to him as she looked out at the night sky.  He crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her neck.

“Are we leaving?” Peggy asked, leaning back into him.

“No,” he said, kissing down her neck, “but I’m sick of standing around waiting.  I decided to come see if you needed any help.”

“Help with what, exactly?” she asked skeptically.

His hands skimmed under her shirt.  “Help taking off your clothes.”

She laughed.  “You know if we start this, they’re going to decide we need to leave asap.”

“Either way, it would mean we’re not sitting around here waiting for the universe to end,” he replied unrepentantly.

She shrugged.  He had a point.  She turned in his embrace, kissing him.

“Besides,” he said, “how many times do you get a chance to do it in Asgard?”

“Well, that depends,” she said dryly, “one assumes that if you’re Thor, often.”

“Wiseass.”

She turned her head, capturing his lips, kissing him long and slow.  They hadn’t talked about any of this.  It was a habit both of them had honed across years of battle.  They didn’t discuss how truly dangerous this mission was or how much they had to lose.  If they didn’t find those missing gems, it could quite literally be the end of everything.

Peggy hated that so much hinged on the gems.  The gems were most likely what was responsible for Steve’s appearance in this world, and she was more than a little worried that if they went poking at them, that ....

She couldn’t even finish the thought.  As much as they’d danced around the subject of what happened if he was sent home, she had no desire to try and rebuild her life again, without him.  What would she do?  Raise their child alone?  What if it caused a problem with the pregnancy?  There were so many unknowns.

“Hey,” he said softly, “where’d you go?”

She frowned at him.  “Nowhere good,” she admitted.

He looked at her and she knew he understood.  He undoubtedly felt it too, that hollow fear that seemed to sit under every interaction they had.  He gave her a watery smile and then leaned in, kissing her again.

She closed her eyes and gave over to it, savoring the feel of his lips against hers, the solid weight of his body next to her.  His hands trailed down her body almost reverently.  They had spent so much of their time together in bed that there was no way it could possibly be novel at this point.  But he made her feel so cherished, so loved.

She tugged at his uniform and he quickly shrugged out of the top half.  She scraped her nails lightly down his muscled chest and he sucked in a sharp breath.  He pulled her over to the bed and they tumbled down together, kissing and touching.

They both pulled at their uniforms until they were bare.  Peggy finally pushed him down into the mattress, crawling over him.  Her back arched as she sank down on him, riding him slowly.  He groaned, the muscles in his neck cording as his eyes fluttered shut and he pushed up into her.

She wanted him so desperately, and she could feel the same hunger echoed in him.  “Is this goodbye?” she asked.

His eyes snapped open and he met her gaze, but he didn’t say anything.  And she knew.  It wasn’t intended to be a goodbye.  But they both knew it might be.  He pulled her down, kissing her, rolling them both so he was braced over her, gently rocking into her.

He shifted, resting his weight on one side so he could slip a hand between their bodies and stroke her with his fingers.  Her breath caught, her nails biting into his back.  “ _Peggy_ ,” he breathed against her skin.

She shivered, coming apart for him, her nails scraping his skin, drawing blood.  He groaned at the sensation, driving into her, losing himself.

 

* * *

 

Peggy lay on her side, her head resting against his shoulder.  “I love you, you know.”

He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  “I know.  I love you too.”

She groaned, pushing herself up into a sitting position.  She glanced at the supersuit, now strewn across the floor. She did not relish the idea of putting all that gear back on.  She sighed.  “We should go see what’s happening with the search.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed without enthusiasm.

 

* * *

 

Steve and Peggy were walking down the wide corridor to the seating area where the other Avengers waited.  Thor and Heimdall were standing with them, but their backs were to Steve and Peggy.  Tony surged to his feet, shouting at Thor, “What?”

Natasha gave Steve and Peggy both a hard look as they gathered close.  

“You said Heimdall could see everything,” Tony snapped.

Thor frowned.  “It takes a great deal to conceal something from Heimdall’s view, but it can be done.”

“What was concealed?” Barton asked warily from his perch on the end of the couch.

Thor took a deep breath and looked around at all of the Avengers.  “The Skrull Empire no longer possesses the Soul gem.”  He frowned, glancing at Heimdall.  “The Skrull Empire no longer exists.”

“Thanos,” Natasha said softly.

Thor nodded.  

“There are still two more gems,” Banner said, rising to his feet.  “Vision has the Mind gem.  And we still have to find the Time gem.”

Thor frowned.

“That’s not a good look,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Thanos is headed to Midgard,” Heimdall said.

“Vision,” Natasha said, rising to stand.

“Indeed,” Heimdall agreed.  “And I believe the Time gem is located on Midgard as well.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tony swore.

 

* * *

 

The energy of the bi-frost had barely dissipated and Steve saw Scott sprinting across the grass toward them.  Sam swooped in behind him.  Scott was panting, fighting for breath.  “Vision,” he managed, pointing to the hangar.  

Steve glanced around, in shock.  The entire Avengers complex had been destroyed.  Most of the main buildings were leveled.  There were scores of people milling around, obviously in shock.

“This way,” Peggy snapped, running toward the hangar.

 

* * *

 

“Thanos has assembled the gauntlet,” Thor said, giving voice to the terror they all knew.

“So what the fuck do we do now?” Tony snapped.  “It makes him basically omnipotent, right?”

“We fight,” Peggy said.

 

* * *

 

New York was in ruins.  Steve couldn’t even begin to process what he was seeing.  He thought the Battle of New York had been bad.  But this level of destruction was beyond comprehension.  How were they possibly going to survive this?

There was a deafening roar and Steve turned, looking at Banner’s alter ego across the field of debris.  The Hulk was holding Peggy in his arms.  She was limp, dead weight.  The creature leapt, landing next to Steve, staring down at him.

Steve stood dumbly, looking at Peggy.  

He had no idea if she was alive or dead.  She looked bad.  

Terror clawed at his heart.   _Peggy_.

The Hulk snorted loudly and then, more gently than Steve would have dreamed possible, he pushed Peggy into Steve’s arms.  The Hulk looked at them, together, and growled.  He shook his head once and then turned, leaping away.

Steve stood with Peggy clutched to his chest.  They’d lost.  He knew it in his heart.  They lost.  They were all going to die.

There was a blast from the gauntlet and Steve crouched down, still holding Peggy to him, but grabbing his shield.   He twisted his upper body, holding up the shield, making sure as much of both him and Peggy as possible were behind it.  The blast was incredible.  

Time slowed down.  

The shield shattered.

Steve and Peggy were thrown backward at incredible speed.

The universe blurred.

 

* * *

 

Steve crashed to a halt, unable to move from the pain.  

Blinding light.  Voices yelling.  

He couldn’t breathe.  

Everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke, coughing, tasting blood.  His right eye was swollen shut and most of his right side seemed to be bandaged.  It hurt like hell.  He was laying in a hospital bed in what looked like the infirmary of the Avengers facility.  

That couldn’t be possible.  Thanos leveled the entire complex.

“Cap,” Tony said, laying a hand on Steve’s left shoulder.  Tony was standing next to the bed, frowning down at Steve.

It took Steve a moment to realize that Tony was calling _him_ Cap.  

“Steve?”  It was Natasha.  Steve turned his head slightly to look at her.  

Nat was standing on the right side of his bed, her brow deeply furrowed.  He could read the tension in the way she held herself.  She glanced over her shoulder.  Beyond her, Steve saw Strange standing in the doorway.  

Natasha addressed Strange, but didn’t actually break eye contact with Steve.  “You sure he’s ours, Doc?” she asked tightly.  “He doesn’t dress like ours.”

Steve looked down at himself.  He was wearing a hospital gown.  But he assumed that Natasha meant his Nomad supersuit.

“He’s ours,” Strange said firmly, finally stepping closer.  He met Steve’s gaze.  “Welcome home, Captain Rogers.  I have questions for you.”

 

END CHAPTER


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for me to wrap up this story. And if you're American, Happy Thanksgiving.

Natasha pulled up a chair, not precisely situated between Steve and Strange, but certainly in the way.  It was clear she had no intention of moving.  Steve still didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he knew that Nat was pissed at Strange, and protective of Steve.

Tony was still present as well, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest.  Steve got the impression Tony wasn’t real impressed with Strange either.

“The world you visited,” Strange started, “was it very similar to ours?”

Steve blinked at him. “Similar, yes,” Steve rasped.  His voice was rough, scratchy and his throat hurt.

“And in this world,” Strange continued, “did you happen to learn the location of the two missing Infinity Gems?”

Steve watched Strange and realized, this was it.  This was how and why Steve ended up in Peggy’s world.  Strange architected all of it so that Steve could gather intel.  So they could learn where the missing gems were located without having to risk their own reality.  The universe hadn’t sought to balance inequities.  There was no grand plan to give Steve a second chance at life.  

Steve was nothing more than a pawn in Strange’s coldly calculated war to save this universe.

In that moment, Steve knew, with absolute certainty, that the other world was ... _gone_ .  Destroyed.  Everyone he knew there, Tony, Natasha, Ilya.   _Peggy_.  They were all gone.  They were expendable.  Acceptable losses, so long as it spared this reality.

“Steve,” Natasha said, reaching out and gently touching the back of his hand.

Steve immediately pulled back.  Peggy was gone.  Their child was -

“Cap, are you okay?” Tony asked, stepping closer.

“Where were the Gems?” Strange pressed.  He moved slightly closer and both Tony and Natasha positioned themselves between Strange and Steve.

“The Skrull Empire,” Steve managed, not able to look at Strange.  Incapacitated or not, if Steve looked at Strange, he was going to bolt out of this bed and strangle the son of a bitch.  “And here.”

Strange nodded.  “Thank you, Captain,” he said, “for everything.”  He turned and left without another word.

Natasha touched Steve’s hand again and this time he didn’t pull away.  If Strange could get the information to Thor, maybe they could stop it in time.  Maybe they could prevent Thanos from assembling the gauntlet and destroying this universe.  

Steve hoped like hell that was true.  

Some good had to come of this.

Steve swallowed thickly, unable to look at Natasha.  He knew it was a longshot.  But he had to ask.  “Peggy,” he said quietly.

Natasha cursed under her breath and slumped back in her chair, squeezing his hand tightly.

Tony left the room.  

“Steve,” Natasha said quietly, “Peggy Carter died.”  

Steve grimaced, screwing his eyes shut.

Natasha leaned over, hugging Steve.  He clutched at her.  He was vaguely aware of her kind words, her gentle touch.  She finally pulled back and he let her go.  She stood next to the bed, looking at him, but he couldn't meet her gaze.

“Try and get some rest, okay?” she said.

Steve was vaguely aware of her leaving, pulling the door shut.

How many times could he do this?  How many times could he wake up to find his entire life ripped out from under him.  He saved the world - saved the universe.  

But he destroyed himself in the process.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke, groggy, from the painkillers.  He blinked, turning to watch through the window as security guards raced down the hallway outside his room.  The swelling in his right eye had gone down and he could see out of it now.  It was late.  He glanced at the clock.  Just after two in the morning.

“ _Steve_!”

Steve shot out of bed, pulling at wires and IVs.  He was aware of alarms sounding, but he did not care.  He yanked open the door and was doing his best to jog down the hall.   _Peggy_.  That was _Peggy_.  And she sounded scared.

Three security guards were clustered around a door.  One of them saw him coming and got the attention of the other two.  They all moved out of the way as he pushed through the door.  Peggy was in a hospital bed, in restraints.  There were several security guards.  One of them was holding a leg that she’d managed to get free.  There were at least three nurses.  One of them was filling a syringe.  Steve shoved her out of the way.  

Everyone else in the room backed away from the bed.  Peggy was scared, tears on her cheeks.  She reached for him and Steve tore at the restraints.  They were reinforced, but Steve was determined.

“Captain Rogers,” one of the nurses said.  “Please, Captain Rogers, you shouldn’t do that.”

Steve’s head snapped toward the nurse and whatever the expression was on his face, she backed away.

 

* * *

 

The room was dark.  Steve had killed the lights and he was sitting on the floor in the corner farthest from the door, holding Peggy.  She wasn’t saying much, but she was clinging to him, her nails biting into him hard enough to draw blood.  He didn’t care.  She was alive.   _She was alive_.

He could hear the security guards and various staff outside debating what to do.  He gathered they’d called Hill and were waiting.

Slowly the door opened.  Steve didn’t bother to turn and look.  He knew from the footfalls that it was Natasha.

“Steve?”

“You told me she was dead,” he said, tightening his grip on Peggy.

Natasha paused.  “Carter?” she said.  “She died, Steve.  Almost six weeks ago.”

Steve shelved the betrayal he felt toward Natasha.  He'd deal with that later.  Natasha may not have understood how Peggy was here with him, but she sure as hell knew who Peggy was, even if it shouldn't have been possible.

Peggy was shivering in his arms.  “Peggy Carter is right here.”

He didn’t look at Natasha, but he could imagine her standing there, head canted to the side.  “Steve, Peggy Carter was in her nineties.  She suffered a massive stroke in her sleep.”  She took a deep breath.  “The person with you, down there.  We don’t know who she is, we’re trying to figure it out.  She’s been unconscious since the two of you showed up yesterday.”

Steve rocked back and forth, holding Peggy.   _Fuck_.  He knew.  He knew that it was impossible to have more than one copy of a person in any given iteration.  But he hadn’t realized that it meant that the Peggy he'd known during the war, the Peggy he'd reconnected with after they defrosted him - was gone.  And he hadn't been here for it.  

Fuck.

He cleared his throat.  “Her name is Peggy Carter.”

“She’s ... _special_ ,” Natasha said carefully.

“In her world,” Steve said, “she received Erskine’s formula.  She was Captain America.”

Natasha was quiet.  “I guess that explains the suits.”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly.

Natasha turned on a lamp and looked them over, sighing and cursing under her breath.  “You pulled out your IV,” she said dryly.  “You’re bleeding all over the floor.  And your ass is hanging out of the back of that gown.”

Steve frowned, but otherwise didn’t move.

“God, you’re a stubborn son of a bitch,” she groused.

 

* * *

 

Peggy was out of it, conscious, but not tracking.  Steve wasn’t sure how concerned to be about that.  He knew that when he landed in her world, it took him nearly a week to really be coherent.  Maybe it was normal?  He didn’t know.  And he didn’t like it.  But he didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter.  

At Natasha’s cajoling, he finally returned to his own room, bringing Peggy with him.  It was clear the nursing staff didn’t like it, the two of them crammed together in the little bed.  But Steve made it just as clear that he considered this to be non-negotiable.

The medical staff did their jobs, reinserting IVs, attaching monitors, taking vitals.  According to the nursing staff, physically at least, Peggy seemed to be fine.

Steve didn’t know what Natasha thought.  She didn’t say much, just standing there, watching, brow furrowed.

It was nearly four in the morning by the time the medical staff were satisfied.  They finally turned off the lights and left.  Natasha followed.  Steve wrapped himself around Peggy, his nose buried at the nape of her neck, his injured arm draped across her hips.  She’d finally stopped shivering.  The nurses said it was shock, but they weren’t willing to take any guesses at a prognosis.

Steve held her tighter.  She was alive.  And with him.  And right now, that was enough.

 

* * *

 

Steve was dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, stretched out on the hospital bed, flipping through TV channels. The nurses had removed the IVs and most of the monitoring.  Peggy was curled against his left side, head pillowed on his shoulder, one of her legs thrown over his, asleep.  She’d done nothing but sleep, though Steve guessed that wasn’t exactly new.

Natasha pushed open the door and looked them over, her expression neutral.  “Apparently there are limits to how far your wholesome good looks and aw shucks charm can take you.  I think the nurses are about at their wit’s end with you and your friend.”

Steve frowned.  “Too bad.”

Natasha watched him for a long moment.  “Do you know that she’s pregnant?”

He glanced from the TV to Natasha and back to the TV.  “Yes,” he said.  “I know.”

“Is it yours?”

He looked at her.  “Yes.”

She arched a perfectly manicured brow.  “You sure she isn't just trying to pin it on you?  She's about as far along as you've been gone.  Would have had to have happened real quick.  That doesn't exactly seem like your style.”

Steve shook his head and turned back to the TV.  “Get out.”

“I’m just saying it’s convenient,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He turned off the TV and looked at Natasha.  He was still trying to re-acclimate to being home.  This wasn’t the Natasha he’d been with for the last several months.  She wasn’t a competent, but mostly unknown coworker.  This was _his_ Natasha.  His friend and confidant.  He cared about her, and she cared about him.  They'd saved each other's lives many times.  He understood her skepticism was driven by her desire to protect him.

He sighed.  “ _Nothing_ about this is convenient.  Nothing.”

Natasha frowned.  “Do you love her?”

He nodded.  "Yeah."

“Does she love you?”

He looked at Natasha, meeting and holding her gaze.  “Yes.”

Natasha sighed, seeming to relent a little.  Shaking her head, she leaned in close to him and kissed him on the forehead.  “Be careful.”

 

* * *

 

Steve woke to Peggy poking him in the cheek.  She was sitting up, looking down at him.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up too, immediately pulling her in close.

She made a grouchy noise, but leaned into him.  She finally pulled back, dragging her hand through her hair.  “Where are we?”

He frowned.  “Uh ... my place.”

She narrowed her gaze at him.

He took a deep breath and gave her an overview of the situation as far as he understood it, including the part about her universe being gone.  When he stopped talking, she was quiet, staring out the window without appearing to really see anything.  He took her hand.

“This is what it was like for you, wasn’t it?” she said hollowly.  “Everything in this world is just slightly off.  No one knows me.”   She looked at him.  “And I was quite cavalier about how much you had lost when you appeared in my world.”

“Peggy - “

She shook her head and turned, pushing herself out of the bed.  He noticed, for the first time, that she was dressed in Avengers support team attire.  A white t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants.  She must have been awake for a while.

She moved closer to the window, staring out across the expanse of manicured lawn.  He already knew that it looked so much like the world they had just left.  But he knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the same.  And the weight of all those changes, massive and miniscule, would be with her every second of the day.

“Natasha was here,” she said, “while you were asleep.”

He frowned.  He did not like the idea that he slept through Natasha’s visit.  Normally that would be out of the question.  He would have woken the instant someone opened the door to his room.  But when he was with Peggy, some of that just switched off.  He knew it was the same for her.

“Did you talk to her?” Steve asked carefully.

She turned and looked at him.  “A bit,” she said.  “She doesn’t like me.”

He opened his mouth to dispute the comment and then shut it again.  He sighed.  “She’ll come around.”

“She won’t,” Peggy said flatly.  “She cares about you.  She thinks I’ll hurt you, and she doesn’t like it.”  She gave him a hard look.

“Nat and I are good friends,” he said.  “I already told you that.”

She nodded.  “I guess I hadn’t expected it to be quite that good.”

He sighed and pushed himself out of bed.  “Sam calls her my work wife,” he said.  “We’re friends.  But nothing more.”  He walked over to the window and she immediately turned toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist.  He hugged her close.

 

* * *

 

“You secured the gems?” Steve demanded, his gaze darting between Thor and Strange.

“We did,” Thor said firmly.  “They’re beyond Thanos’s reach.”

“And Loki?” Steve pressed.

Thor grimaced, but said, “Loki is being dealt with.  He has no access to the gems.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy looked around the apartment.  Steve knew what she had to be thinking.  That it was so similar, but so different from the apartment they’d shared in her world.  She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and started organizing things.  

The place was a mess, which is what tended to happen when Steve was left to his own devices.  In the time that he’d been gone, it was clear no one had stopped by to clean up.  

Peggy directed and Steve did as he was told.  As soon as he’d changed the sheets on the bed, Peggy collapsed onto it, pulling a pillow over her head as she went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

By the time Peggy woke, Steve had the place mostly presentable.  He’d gone and gotten food from the commissary and brought it home.  They sat on the couch, as usual, and watched TV while they ate.

Peggy looked tired.  There were still shadowed hollows beneath her eyes.  And the bruises she sustained in the fight with Thanos were only now starting to fade.  But according to Cho, Peggy and the baby were both doing well physically.

Steve pulled Peggy close and she curled up against him.

  


* * *

 

Steve did his best to give Peggy reports and files that he thought would have been helpful when he was in her world.  They gave her an overview of the team history.  He tried to focus on the places where he knew their histories were different.  

After a lot of consideration, he included the history for this world’s Peggy Carter, including the records on her children, grandchildren, and extended family.  On a base, genetic level, they were this Peggy’s family too, the baby's family as well.

Peggy took it all in, but didn’t say a whole lot.  She spent a lot of time in the apartment.  She still slept a lot, but Steve knew she was also cosseting herself away.

With Hill’s help, they set Peggy up with an identity.  She just arched an eyebrow as Steve gave the new ID cards to her.  “Margaret Carter?  Isn’t that a little bold?”

He shrugged.  “It’s a common enough name.”

“And the fact that you’re romantically linked to two of them won’t seem odd?”

He sighed.  “We deal with Thor and Infinity Gems and armies from space.  Personally I don’t think anybody gives any thought to my love life, but if they do, they can just deal with the fact that I have a type.”

“Steve, being involved with two iterations of the same person isn’t having a type.”

“Yes it is.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Well, this iteration wants a burger.”

He nodded.  “Yes ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy was walking along one of the wooded trails when she heard Steve jogging toward her.  It was a chilly day, but the sun was high in the sky and there wasn’t much wind.  Most of the trees were bare and there were leaves crunching underfoot.

Peggy stopped, waiting for Steve.  She’d known he would find her.  In this weeks since they'd been in this world, he’d finally gotten to the point where he was willing to leave her for missions.  But she knew how much he hated it.  

He frowned as he came to a halt next to her.  “Sorry I missed the appointment, I - “

“I know, Steve,” she said gently.  “I was an Avenger.  I know the work schedule is unpredictable.”

His frown deepened.  “I don’t want you to think this isn’t a priority for me.”

She sighed and stepped closer to him, leaning into him.  She understood that on some level, he was still grieving the loss of the Peggy from this world.  And she knew that loss made their connection all the more precious to him.  “I know it’s a priority, Steve.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  “I love you.  Both of you.”

She smiled.  “We know.”

He pulled back and looked at her.  “So what did the doctor say?”

Peggy’s hand went to her belly, which was now visibly rounded.  “Everything looks good,” she said.  “But he reminded me again that I’m not cleared to be on the team in any physical capacity.”

Steve frowned.  “I told you they were going to veto it.”

“Yes, well, I had to try anyway,” she said tartly.

Steve took a deep breath.  “So, did you find out?”

She arched an eyebrow innocently.  “Find out?”

“Peggy,” he said in a warning tone.

She smiled and rubbed her belly again.  “He said that there is a ninety-nine percent chance that we’re having a little girl.”

Steve blinked quickly, his eyes shiny.  Without a word, he pulled her close again, hugging her tightly.  

“I take it you’re pleased about this,” Peggy said as lightly as she could.  She knew how much this meant to him, because it meant the world to her as well.

Steve nodded.  “Yeah,” he said thickly.  “Yeah, I’m pleased.”

She touched his face lightly and guided his head down for a kiss.  It was soft, and sweet and she sighed against his lips, feeling tears on her cheeks.

Steve released a sharp breath and pressed his forehead to hers.  “I know how hard it is,” he said in a near whisper.  “You lost everyone and everything you knew.  Again.”

She sniffled and pushed herself slightly away from him, wiping impatiently at her wet cheeks.  She shook her head.  “Not everyone,” she said meaningfully.  She shrugged.  “This is ... I don’t even know how to put it into words.  You know exactly what it’s like.”  She pursed her lips together and looked at him again.  “But it isn’t like before, Steve. It isn’t.   I’m not alone.”

He shook his head solemnly.  “No, you’re not.”

She smiled and kissed him again.  

  
**END STORY**


End file.
